Rag Doll
by cheekymice
Summary: Tony finds himself cut off from the rest of the team when Vance sends him on a difficult and unpleasant undercover assignment.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello all. **

So here I am back again with another multi chapter fic. I hope you enjoy. This will be my usual brand of overblown angst with a soupcon of whumpage. I can say that this story will not be dwelling on anything graphic regarding the subject matter, it is mainly a study on how difficult some undercover assignments must be. This is inspired by a cop friend who works the kiddy porn side of things. I know it kills him to have to go in day after day and deal with the things he has to see.

**Thank you to Mamamia for looking over this. **

**And a huge big thank you to _Scousmuz1k _for her kind help and support. If you haven't read any of her stories then do so now...run...go on...they are absolutely wonderful as is the woman behind them.**

**Cheeks**

**xx**

* * *

Tony was bored and that was a bad thing.

They had no case. He'd pretty much finished up on his paperwork apart from the crap that always lurked on the bottom of the pile that was so unimportant it just got conveniently ignored, like all the pointless e-mails from human resources regarding online training and compliance issues. Yeah, dream on…like they would ever get completed.

Tony swung in his chair and looked around the bullpen as he lazily squeezed on a stress ball. McGee seemed like he was busy working but in reality he was surfing the net looking for a new TV and Ziva was surreptitiously reading a gossip magazine she'd found lying around.

He sighed and threw the ball at McGee. It bounced nicely off his head but McGee didn't even flinch and continued to tap away on his keyboard.

Damn, Probie-san was becoming immune to his sneak attacks.

Hmmmm, what to do next?

Tony opened his drawer and dug around for the big box of rubber bands he had in there. He looked up to see both colleagues grinning at him.

"Looking for something Tony?" Ziva swirled a band around her index finger. She quickly aimed and it flew across the floor, narrowly missing his right ear.

"Hey, watch it Zee-va!" Tony frowned. He was obviously getting way too predictable and it was no fun when he wasn't the one inflicting the pain.

He swung his chair in a circle as he pursed his lips and tented his fingers reflectively.

Gibbs had disappeared into MTAC over an hour ago, god knows what they were doing up there because as far as he knew there was no brouhaha going on in the world that would necessitate his being in there.

"Hey Probie," he called out. "Do you think that Gibbs and the techs are all watching porn on the big screen?"

"Can you imagine the techs feeling comfortable enough to watch porn with Gibbs?" McGee looked up and grinned.

"I am not altogether sure Gibbs has ever watched a porn film, Tony." Ziva arched an eyebrow at him.

Tony laughed.

"Good point. The closest thing to erotic films little Leroy had in Stillwater was probably one of those old machines you put a nickel in the slot and all you got was a glimpse of a maiden's ankle."

McGee sniggered from behind his screen.

Tony swung his chair in several circles again.

Whoa, head rush.

Hmmm, what if he tried to balance something on his face as he spun?

Tony rested a slightly chewed HB pencil under his nose and twirled around.

"Agent DiNozzo… my office… _now_!" Director Vance's authoritative voice carried across the office from the mezzanine level.

Tony tried to look like he hadn't been dicking around, but that was kind of tricky when you'd just been caught whirling on your chair with a writing implement poised on your top lip.

"Um, on my way, Director…"

Okay, Vance looked more than a little pissed as he stalked back towards his office.

Both Ziva and McGee were staring at him like he was a condemned man about to enter death row.

"What did you do this time?" McGee eventually spoke with all the smug confidence of someone who'd never once had a summons from above.

"Nothing, McWhiter-than-white." Tony snapped as he mentally ran through all the things he could be in the shit for. Okay, super gluing the copy room door shut had seemed like a good idea at the time, and there was that whole vending machine incident but that hadn't been his fault, that glass really should have been toughened. Hey, the agency was lucky he wasn't going to sue for the two-inch gash he'd gotten on his hand.

Tony narrowed his eyes.

Crap. There was the incident of last week when he'd been caught on the parking garage security tapes getting more than a little frisky with one of the new baggie bunnies from down in evidence. The bastards in security really had no right circulating the footage around the agency. If anything he was the innocent victim in that one. A total invasion of his privacy… although his YouTube acting debut had lead to an increased interest from the female members of staff, so maybe on reflection he should really send his friends in security a muffin basket as a thank you. It had almost been worth it to see the look on McGee's face when he'd opened up that particular attachment. Tony hadn't been aware that a person could turn that shade of puce so quickly.

He got up and straightened his suit.

"Ziva, can I borrow your magazine?"

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I think the headmaster is going to discipline me and I need some protection." He grinned as he exited the bullpen and made his way up the stairs.

"Protection?" Ziva called.

"Probie…explain!" Tony bent over at the top of the stairs and lifting up the back of his jacket he made a swishing motion with his hand.

He swept passed Vance's secretary and winked at her as he nodded towards the door. She smiled and indicated for him to go in.

Now that was not what he'd been expecting.

Sitting behind Vance's desk, smoking one of his fat Cuban cigars was the Secretary of the Navy.

"Special Agent DiNozzo… good to see you again." SecNav smiled an oily smile.

"You too Sir," he lied.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say that it was against the law to smoke in a federal building, but Vance was shooting daggers from his eyes in a clear warning for him to behave so Tony let that one drop; he did give an exaggerated cough though.

The SecNav was a complete cliché.

I am clearly important therefore I must smoke the biggest cigar I can purchase… _illegally _of course… but I'm the Secretary of the freaking US Navy so who's going to bust me.

Tony was sure Freud had probably written at length on the subject of large cigars being a sure sign of over compensating for penis size but again Tony kept that thought to himself. The pompous ass reported directly to the freaking President so it was probably prudent not to bait him. All he could think of was that his previous dealings with the SecNav had never gone well. In fact the last time they'd met he'd just come round from having the butt of a gun shoved hard into his face.

"I've been hearing good things about you, Tony. Please…sit. Coffee?" The SecNav looked at Vance and smiled again.

Smoke billowed.

Huh. Tony hadn't been aware that they were on first name terms and his bullshit radar started to ping.

"No thank you, Sir." Gibbs would be proud. Tony kept the emphasis hard on the 'Sir', using the military form of putting an inflection there to indicate you thought the person was a compete ass-hole, but if the SecNav noticed the deliberate insolence he didn't show it.

"What you are about to hear is strictly need to know, and _that_ expressly means members of your team, understand Agent DiNozzo?" Vance stated firmly.

Tony bit the inside of his cheek.

"Understood Director," Tony frowned.

He really didn't like the direction this was going, seeing as the last time he'd been involved in a 'need to know op' it had consumed his life for over six months and ended with the CIA blowing up his car.

The SecNav tossed a file over.

Tony opened it and scanned the contents as Vance spoke.

"You are aware of Operation Ruby Slipper Agent DiNozzo?"

"The FBI's Pedo. Op. right." Tony confirmed.

It had been constantly in the press, so much that Tony suspected that just about everyone in the free world knew about it. The FBI had been tracking a child pornography ring and in doing so had uncovered a whole can of worms. Along with the hundreds of perverted Joe Average's unmasked by the operation, the real shock to the public had been the congressmen, politicians, union leaders and a whole slew of generally 'important' people who had been identified as having indecent images lurking on their hard drives and in their favorites files.

Scandal after scandal had erupted in the press.

Oh, they all had 'valid' excuses for why the kiddy porn was there, ranging from _'someone else must have used my PC'_ to _'I was merely doing research in the hopes of trying to stamp out this disgusting canker blighting the great US of A'._ None of it washed, and several very influential men now languished in six by six cells quietly shitting themselves that their next shower mate would be a big redneck called Bubba.

Tony flipped the page and looked at the photo of a naval officer wearing full dress uniform, proudly staring at the camera. The next photograph was a typical posed family shot, a pretty blonde woman sat at his side, the kids sat at their feet.

"Commander Charles Philip Grey, aged fifty-two, married twelve years to Senator Norman Reinhart's daughter, Sarah. They have one son, Dexter, nine and two daughters, Madeline six, Molly four. Now serving in Washington as of a week ago."

Vance's voice was neutral but Tony could hear the tightness behind the words.

"His name came up during the FBI's investigation way too many times to be a coincidence, but when a joint op between the FBI and NCIS moved in and seized his computers they found nothing; hard drives were totally wiped with the latest hi-tech software so that even the best experts couldn't find anything remotely incriminating. He came out as pure as the driven snow."

Tony read the report. It stunk. No one had a history that clean. Hell, even the Pope probably had a few questionable sites lurking on his hard-drive; it was the nature of the Internet. Certainly by the law of averages several humble porn sites would show up no matter how careful or sophisticated the security, you only had to click on the most innocent of links for something smutty to pop up behind the façade. So, to have nothing was more than suspicious.

As if reading his mind, Vance spoke. "Everything suggests he was tipped off about the raid and the leak was eventually traced back to our Norfolk office."

Tony looked up from the file. Okay, that was why the director was being so secretive. Things were making a little more sense now.

"The smug bastard called in his lawyers, and with the help of the Senator he's got everything locked down so tight that if his name is so much as whispered in relation to the 'Ruby Slipper' operation then he'll sue the ass off everyone from the FBI and NCIS to the federal government." SecNav slowly rolled his cigar in his fingers. "The Commander is an embarrassment, and I don't like people who hide behind lawyers and I certainly don't like to be played, Agent DiNozzo. I think its time we cleaned house."

Now they were getting somewhere. Tony had the distinct impression he'd be the one wielding the mop.

"So where do I come into this?" Tony shut the file and sat back in the chair.

Vance walked around the desk and sat down on the corner.

"We want you to go undercover and get the evidence we need to nail his ass to the board."

Tony didn't say anything. He was starting to feel a tension headache coming on.

Vance threw over a buff envelope. Inside was a driver's license, several credit cards all under the name of Anthony DiMatteo. He opened the artfully battered passport and saw his own face staring back at him. He flicked through the pages; apparently he'd just been to Bangkok for a week. Nice, pity he didn't remember taking that trip.

"We've leased an apartment under your new name for six months. Your assignment will be to befriend him and take him down, Agent DiNozzo." Vance sat down on the couch.

"Why me?" Tony asked.

"The Commander is big on exercise. The first thing he did was join a gym where you now have a job as a personal trainer, time to put your physical education degree to good use. Your undercover experience is very impressive, Tony. I've been reading about how you spent seven months working your way up the Macaluso family in Baltimore. For anyone who can fool the Mafia, this will be a piece of cake," SecNav answered as he took a long pull on the cigar.

Tony could smell the blatant flattery a mile off and he didn't like it.

Did they think he was stupid? That if they didn't say it out loud he wouldn't realize what this op was _really_ about?

"But this time it isn't about me pretending I'm Don Corleone is it?" Tony couldn't help the angry tone that crept into his voice as he threw the envelope down on the table.

Vance at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Agent DiNozzo…" he started but Tony jumped in.

"No, don't try and act like this is just another undercover op. You know damn well what you are asking. We all know that there is only one way I'm ever going to be able to get Grey to open up to me."

He stared hard at Vance to let him know he wasn't happy. Considering the assignment he felt he had that right. Tony felt the bile rising in his gut just thinking about what they were asking him to do.

"We are aware this going to be unpleasant for you but considering some of your undercover operations…" SecNav interjected.

"_Unpleasant?_ You are asking me to spend the next god knows how long trying to get Grey to think that I'm a fucking pedophile." Tony interrupted and gave a bitter laugh. "With all due respect I really don't think 'unpleasant' really cuts it, Sir."

The SecNav looked like he was about to say something about his tone of voice but Vance thankfully jumped in before his disgust and anger completely took over.

"Sir, didn't you say you had a meeting at eleven?" Vance reminded him.

The SecNav checked his watch and cursed. He dumped his cigar and pulled on his coat.

"I really must go, but please keep me updated Leon." SecNav picked up the phone and barked at Vance's secretary to ring down to his driver, he then walked over and held out his hand.

"Agent DiNozzo. Good to see you again."

Tony begrudgingly took the hand proffered.

"The Navy has suffered enough embarrassment recently. Get this bastard Agent DiNozzo, before he can do more damage to our reputation." SecNav ordered.

Tony clenched his jaw and didn't respond. He'd thought that his days of being used were over. It also didn't escape his notice that the first name familiarity was gone. How quickly one fell out of favor.

He sat still as the Director and SecNav moved towards the door and spoke together in hushed tones; several glances were cast his way but he pretended to be engrossed in the file he had opened again.

The Secretary of the Navy eventually left with a flourish of his camel hair coat and Vance quietly closed the door behind him. He walked over to the water jug on the side and poured himself a glass before sitting down heavily behind his desk.

Tony shut the file and waited for him to speak.

"Agent DiNozzo… _Tony_, I am more than aware this is not going to be an easy assignment, but you are one of the best undercover agents we have and I need someone I can trust one hundred percent."

"You trust me, you really trust me." Tony bit back a sarcastic laugh. It was almost a Sally Field moment.

Vance ignored his comment and continued.

"The agency _cannot _afford to mess this up. Norfolk screwed the pooch on the original investigation and I will _not_ let that happen again with this office. Grey has contacts everywhere and we can't risk this operation coming to his attention. The less people know about this the less likely that it gets talked about. We need that evidence if he's going to be prosecuted and there is no other way we can get it; if we put him under any kind of surveillance his lawyers will have us for harassment. This is the only way."

"Do I actually have any choice in the matter?" Tony asked knowing the answer before he even spoke.

Vance rubbed a hand over his face and Tony watched as he picked up a photo of his wife and kids.

"I've just heard that he's offered to coach the under tens swim team. Do you think Commander Grey should be anywhere near kids knowing what you do of the man? Can you really sit back and do nothing just because this is not going to be an easy ride? I can order you to do this but I would prefer you took the assignment because your sense of justice tells you that Grey can't be allowed to hide behind his rank, his lawyers and his father-in-law anymore. You can stop this Agent DiNozzo and no, I may not always approve of some of your methods but I do respect that you are a competent and skilled agent and I know that you will do the right thing."

Tony shut his eyes and sighed.

Vance was right; as much as he didn't want to touch the assignment with a ten-foot pole, he also knew he wouldn't be able to live with a clear conscience if he walked away from this one. This was his job and he couldn't pick and choose assignments just because they offended his sensibilities.

"Who do I report to?" he asked with a sense of resignation.

"Me and only me." Vance looked relieved. "I'll expect you to give me a sitrep and written report every week or whenever you feel necessary. Just keep me in the loop. Obviously you can work on whatever back story you feel necessary."

It was always best to keep things as near to your own circumstances where possible, less like to fuck up in the long run. Tony quickly worked it out in his head.

"I'm a trust fund baby who works as a PT because it gives me something to do in between spending my family's money. I like the best in life, fine wine, fine foods, and fast cars. That sort of man should appeal to him. Commander Grey is clearly a snob. He married for money and he likes his social standing and what it can give him."

"You learned that from glancing at the file? I'm impressed" Vance looked amused.

"I'm a trained undercover investigator, wouldn't be very good if I wasn't perceptive now would I?" Tony shrugged. Grey was easy to read really, his humble beginnings and subsequent rise in the world told him all he needed to know.

"We came up with the same reasoning. SecNav has set the budget high on this one. So the apartment in Woodley Park you'll be using is high end."

"I'll also need a car to go with the image." Tony pushed.

Vance merely nodded.

"Naturally; it's all on SecNav's dime DiNozzo, knock yourself out."

Tony raised an eyebrow.

_"Really?"_

Tony suddenly got the distinct impression that he was being given cart-blanch to go crazy.

"Really," Vance replied and gave him a sly smile. "Got to maintain your cover, and the SecNav was quite insistent that he wanted this op to go smoothly."

The Director picked up his coffee cup and looked at the cigar butt with distaste. It seemed like he wasn't the only one who really disliked the SecNav.

Vance became a little more human in his eyes.

"You start work tomorrow, all you need to know about your new 'life' is in that file, including a new cell. You'll find all my numbers are there, including my personal cell and home lines. Don't hesitate to call me."

"Thanks." At least it seemed like the Director was taking his role seriously. If Vance was to be his only contact then he needed to be able to get hold of him any time day or night should the shit hit the fan for any reason.

"I will inform your team that you will be out of the office for the foreseeable future. You can go home now and get yourself prepared, sort out whatever you need to sort out. And I meant it when I said tell no one about this assignment Agent DiNozzo. I've noticed that Agent Gibbs can act like a bull in a china shop where members of his team are concerned and I do not want this op blown to hell because your boss can't keep things professional."

Gibbs was many things but unprofessional was not one of them, especially when it came to a case - but then again arguing that point with Vance clearly wasn't going to help any.

"Understood but if you can trust me then you can trust Gibbs." Tony left it at that and picked up the file. He was already at the door when Vance spoke again.

"Good luck Tony and feel free to contact me at anytime if you need to, case related or not. I do mean that."

Tony nodded.

"Thanks."

Yeah, right…not going to happen, but he actually appreciated what Vance was offering.

Tony closed the door and took a deep breath.

He walked past Cynthia and made for the bathroom.

Luckily it was empty, he dumped the file on the side and filled one of the sinks with cold water. He splashed his face relishing the shock as the icy water hit his skin.

He stared blankly into the mirror.

Usually he felt the thrill of the chase, felt the fire ignite in his belly whenever he prepared to go undercover but not this time. He didn't want to think about it yet, not here. What he needed was to be in the comfort of his own home, surrounded by his things and maybe then he'd be able to get his head around the assignment because right now he was failing dismally.

Tony dried his face, shoved the file under his arm and made for the bullpen. Looking down he saw there was still no sign of Gibbs. He was probably on an extended coffee run.

Both McGee and Ziva looked at him expectantly as he trotted down the stairs. He ignored their worried looks as he made his way over to his desk.

Tony jammed the file in his backpack and hitched it high on his shoulder. He then opened his drawer and picked up his gun and put it in his shoulder holster.

Shit, he should really go see Abby before he went but he really couldn't cope with her worry and she would worry. She always did when he went undercover. She'd have to understand. Yeah, he'd make it up to her when this assignment was over.

"Tony, what did the Director want?" Ziva was suddenly at his side. He really wished she wouldn't sneak up like that. He leaned forward and turned his PC off.

He wasn't sure what made him kiss her on the cheek but he did.

Maybe it was the bleak thought that he was going to be cut off from his friends and colleagues, cut off from everything that was familiar to him for the foreseeable future.

"Bye, Ziva," he said quietly, leaving her clearly shocked. Maybe she realized that it really was a good-bye kiss because she didn't try to rip his arm off or maim him.

"Where you going?" McGee sounded confused.

He turned and said succinctly, "Home."

"Tony, what happened?" Ziva asked in a tone that suggested she wasn't going to be fobbed of with the 'need to know' explanation.

Tony sighed. He was aware that the Director was watching them from the mezzanine level, probably making sure he wasn't spilling his guts.

He nodded to Vance then turned back to his colleagues.

"When Gibbs gets back the director will call you up into his office, that's all I can say."

Both sets of eyes looked toward the stairs then back to him.

Tony knew they were probably thinking he'd been suspended, but they'd hear soon whatever explanation Vance wanted to give to explain his absence.

"What's going on?" McGee sounded concerned. Tony lifted his hand and tapped him several times on his cheek.

"I've gotta go, Probie. Take care while I'm gone."

He shrugged apologetically and walked up the ramp towards the elevator. At least they both had the sense not to follow him, considering Vance was still eyeballing them all.

"Tony!" Ziva called out to him.

With every step he could feel their eyes following his progress. Tony hit the button for the ground floor, got in and gave them a wave before the doors shut.

He rested his head against the cool metal as the elevator descended. It was strange, he hadn't even left the building but he inexplicably felt a deep sense of loneliness settle around him like a cloak.

A ball of anxiety settled in his stomach.

He had a bad feeling about this.

**TBC**

_**Hands up who thinks Gibbs is going to sit back and do nothing when he hears that his SFA is on a mystery assignment. :)**_

_**Reiviews are always welcome. I'm a needy little flower. Plus they help feed my muse, they are like chocolate cupcakes to her. :)**_

_xx_


	2. Chapter 2

**Firstly can I say a huge thank you to _Princess Fi _for her sound beta work on this chapter. It is entirely down to her that that this chapter is remotely legible. I go so far as to say she is probably still rocking back and forth in a darkened room in sheer horror at having to clean up my appalling punctuation! Seriously, a huge hug to her and please go read her fiction if you haven't already done so as it's truly wonderful.**

**Secondly, thank you to all who took the time out to review. All those lovely messages in my inbox made me a very happy bunny. Please continue along that vein because I do so love hearing from you all.**

**And finally, a huge thank you to Lindycat for pointing out a dirty great error in the last chapter. I owe you doll. xx**

**Cheeky**

**xx**

* * *

It wasn't often that Gibbs played hooky but today was one of those days where he threw caution to the wind. He knew that he put the hours in when needed, so he didn't feel one ounce of guilt_._ He'd spent a good part of the morning catching up with a few marine buddies in Afghanistan via MTAC and now he was outside sitting in the sun just letting the world drift by.

Sometimes taking a little time out was good for the soul.

Plus with him away from the office it meant that the team could also relax safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't pop up and catch them fooling around. He'd go so far as to predict that DiNozzo was probably driving the whole floor nuts right about now.

It wasn't often they had a lull, so why not take full advantage?

Gibbs shut his eyes, leaned his head back and basked in the warmth as the breeze off the Potomac blew away the cobwebs.

His cell started to ring just as he felt himself drifting off.

"Yeah," he snapped as he sat up straight and tried to act like he hadn't been falling asleep.

"Gibbs…" Ziva sounded stressed but then Tony in full hyperactive mode would turn the calmest person into a gibbering wreck. "The Director wants to see us."

"Why, we got a case?" he frowned.

Why the hell hadn't Leon call him direct?

He could hear Ziva take a deep breath before she answered and it occurred to him that it was strange that she was the one calling him. DiNozzo usually picked the short straw when bad news was in the air.

Gibbs stood up and started to walk back towards the Navy Yard.

"Gibbs, something is going on, Tony has been sent home and is not answering his phone and now the Director wants to see us. I don't like it Gibbs."

Dammit, leave the office for a few hours and it all goes to hell!

"Ziva, what happened?" Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose hard. What had DiNozzo done now?

"The director called Tony up to his office. When Tony came back he said he had to leave but he wouldn't tell us why, all he would say before leaving was that the director would tell us why. We found out that SecNav was in the meeting too. I do not like this." Ziva gave a frustrated growl. "We don't know what is going on Gibbs! No one will tell us anything!"

"I'm on my way." He ended the call and immediately hit speed dial. Ziva wasn't the only one not liking this. Why the hell was SecNav meeting with DiNozzo?

The ring tone went on and on before Tony's voice cheerfully told him that he was unavailable and to leave a message.

"DiNozzo, ring me…_now_!"

He left the same message on Tony's home line before showing his cell back into his pocket and cursing under his breath. Never be unreachable, his team knew that and DiNozzo was pretty hot on following that rule no matter what he was doing…. or on occasion, _who_ he was doing… as Kate had once learned much to her disgust.

Nope, the only explanation for both lines going unanswered, as far as he could see, was DiNozzo was being sent deep undercover and they were being kept out of the loop for some reason because he couldn't see Leon suspending or firing an agent without discussing it with a team lead first.

Gibbs puffed out a sigh.

The thing about DiNozzo was he had a tendency to throw himself into each undercover op with an alarming sense of purpose that both made Gibbs proud and scared him shitless in equal measure. So DiNozzo being sent under on his own wasn't a happy thought. In fact it gave Gibbs a damn headache just thinking about it. Over the years he'd watched DiNozzo totally disregard his own personal safety if it meant getting a result, and that tendency always got magnified when he was undercover. With someone else co-coordinating this thing, whatever _'the thing'_ was, there wouldn't be anyone who knew to keep a tight reign on DiNozzo to stop the damn idiot from doing something stupid.

He was too lost in his thoughts to look where he was going and he accidentally bumped the shoulder of a greasy looking biker type as they passed each other on the sidewalk.

"Hey Grandpa, look where you're fucking going!" The guy got right up in his face immediately.

Big mistake given the mood Gibbs had suddenly found himself in.

"You got a problem Sport?" Gibbs moved closer. The stench of rank body odor caught in back of his throat and he almost took an involuntary step back but he stood firm even though the guy had a good seven inches on him.

Gibbs tilted his head slowly and stared at the acne-pitted face in front of him. He let a little smile play on his lips but there was nothing remotely friendly about it.

The guy suddenly looked confused. The little piss-ant was probably used to a very different reaction but what he didn't know was that Gibbs had eaten guys twice as big for breakfast in the Marines and 'intimidated' just wasn't in his vocabulary. The kid gave him the once over and seemed for the first time to actually look beyond the casual tweed jacket and grey hair and obviously realized how badly he'd miscalculated because he suddenly muttered an apology and moved off quickly.

Gibbs glared at his retreating back feeling slightly disappointed. He felt the distinct need to punch something and that aggressive little prick would have provided a useful service.

He'd gone from feeling relaxed and mellow to wanting to rip someone's head off in less than five minutes.

He sighed.

DiNozzo was going to give him an ulcer one of these days.

Gibbs made it back to the Yard in less than fifteen minutes; he didn't stop for pleasantries as he marched passed the bullpen and all but ran up the stairs to the mezzanine. Ziva and McGee followed hot on his heels. If the director wanted to see them then he'd damn well see them now.

He wanted answers.

As they entered the anteroom to Vance's office he didn't stop. The director's assistant Cynthia didn't look surprised to see them, but then she was in the best position to know that something was up and she was well used to Gibbs by now.

"He free?" Gibbs asked and opened the door without waiting for a reply. He could practically feel McGee wincing behind him at either at his lack of manners or the fact that they were storming the Directors office, and he sadly suspected McGee was always going to be the kind of guy who naturally deferred to those higher up in the food chain. He'd go far, probably be sitting behind that door one day.

"Ahh …Agent Gibbs, come in." Vance leaned back in his chair and unwrapped a toothpick.

"Leon, what's going on?" Gibbs demanded.

"Straight to the point as always. I assume that agents McGee and David have already informed you that you will be one man down on your team?" Vance put the pick in his mouth and chewed. "Special Agent DiNozzo is going to be out of the office on assignment for me for the next few months."

Gibbs could feel the anger build. A few days he could just about live with, but months?

"Undercover op?" As if he didn't know.

"Yes, undercover Agent Gibbs. That is all you need to know." Vance stated firmly. 'Agent DiNozzo will do his job and you will continue do yours. Is that clear?"

"This is an assignment for the SecNav, no?" Ziva asked before Gibbs managed to open his mouth to respond.

"Agent David, if I felt you needed any further information I would have provided it, but you do not need to know. Again, do I make myself clear?"

The toothpick worked up and down with extra vigor as he stared at each of them in turn.

"So you see fit to poach my Senior Field Agent for months without consulting me." Gibbs seethed.

"I wasn't aware I had to consult anyone when I need to utilize the skills of one of my Agents." Vance retorted. "Now I understand that DiNozzo's absence will leave you short staffed in the MCRT. If you feel you need a TAD, then I can arrange that for you."

"No I don't want a damn TAD. This isn't about being a man down and you know it, Leon." Gibbs kept his voice even but the anger was there, under the surface. He also knew the way things worked and the director wasn't going to say anything more on the op no matter how much he pushed. "Just tell me that DiNozzo is going to have the support he needs."

"That is not your concern Agent Gibbs." Again the toothpick worked up and down. "But yes, DiNozzo will be reporting directly to me."

Gibbs shook his head in disgust and turned on his heels. He waited until Ziva and McGee left the room before he responded.

"You know Leon, that really doesn't fill me with much confidence Leon, considering what the last director put him through."

He slammed the door before Vance could say anything further.

"Tony will be okay won't he?" McGee asked tentatively as they walked down the stairs.

"He'll be fine, McGee." Gibbs responded with more confidence than he felt. "Now both of you get your ass downstairs and see what you can find out about this op…and be discreet! I don't want the Director crawling up my ass on this one."

They scrambled for their desks and he watched as they both put their heads down and started to dig. He sat and looked over at Tony's desk, before jumping up and grabbing his keys.

"Where are you going?" Ziva asked.

"Out." He barked as he strode towards the elevator.

* * *

The fridge was his next job.

Tony opened the door and peered in. Luckily he wasn't the type who had shelves full of gourmet ingredients or he'd be pretty pissed right now. He grabbed a small cardboard box off the counter and set about scanning the shelves. There were several pots of yoghurt that definitely wouldn't last. He put them in the box along with a nearly new hunk of Parmesan and a block of English cheddar. He checked the date on a pack of bacon and saw that it was still good. That went in the box also along with some sticks of butter and several cartons of fresh orange juice. There was a loaf of bread with only a couple of slices out care of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich he'd had for his breakfast. He lobbed that in too.

That was it.

He balanced the box on his hip and headed for his neighbor's apartment.

Tony knocked and heard the usual argument as to who was going to answer. He knew who would win before the door opened.

"Hi Frank."

"Tony!" The man beamed. "Come in…come in. What are you doing home this time of the day?"

Frank had been a cop before he retired, and now he spent his days as a hen-pecked househusband, which, despite his constant griping about being nagged to death, he loved. His wife may rule him with an iron fist, but she also spoiled him rotten and he knew it.

"I was hoping to catch your gorgeous wife alone." Tony grinned.

"You're welcome to her…. she's giving me gas with all her moaning and grousing." Frank patted him on his shoulder.

A tiny, grey haired, spry woman bustled down the hallway wiping her hands against her apron.

"Muriel, run away with me." Tony pleaded. "Leave this old crock to his beer and football and finally trade up to a toy boy."

"Och, get away with you." She swatted his arm. Even after fifty years living in the US her voice still retained a harsh Glaswegian accent. "Come in, I've got a batch of shortbread fresh out of the oven."

"Don't tempt me, you Siren. I can't stop actually; I just wanted to warn you that I won't be around for the next few months. Work." He said evasively, he pushed the box forward. "I bought you some perishables from my fridge, cheese, bacon and various other stuff. It seemed a shame to waste it."

Muriel patted his arm and acted like he'd just given her the Mona Lisa.

"Oh that's so kind. Isn't that kind, Frank? You're a good boy."

Her husband grunted and Tony felt Frank's eyes on his face, studying him.

Muriel happily carried the box away to the kitchen, no doubt to ferret around to see what goodies were there.

The cop in Frank understood.

"Undercover again?" he asked.

"Yeah." Tony nodded.

"Going to be bad one, isn't it?" Frank stared at him. Couldn't fool the old man, once an investigator always an investigator.

"Naaaa." Tony smiled. "Piece of cake."

"If you say so, but your eyes are giving you away, Son." Frank responded.

Tony leaned against the doorframe.

"It's just these long ops, Frank. The older I get the more I like my home comforts that's all. I miss my bed, my back isn't what it used to be - but don't tell Muriel, I have a reputation to uphold."

"Humpf…." Frank didn't seem convinced but his wife scuttled down the hall with a Tupperware container thankfully interrupting them.

"Here you are lad." She thrust the plastic box into his hand. "Still warm."

"Hey, are you giving away all my shortbread, woman!" Frank scolded.

"He needs to keep his strength up, all you do is sit in front of that television all day, it's not like you need the fuel." Muriel patted his belly.

"You see what I have to put up with?" Frank shook his head but spoiled the barb by smiling broadly.

Tony chuckled.

"I've gotta go. Thanks Angel." Tony kissed Muriel on the cheek and pushed off from the wall. "Feed my cat will you, Frank."

"You don't have a cat Tony!" Frank called to his back as Tony opened the door to his apartment.

"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting," Tony laughed as he called back.

Once inside he flopped down on his leather couch and stretched out, his long legs propped up on the arm. He grabbed a cushion off the floor and hugged it against his chest.

If asked to put into words how he felt, he wouldn't be able to do so. There was a tight ball of anxiety deep in the pit of his stomach that wouldn't quit.

He tried to convince himself this was going to be a job just like any other.

Going undercover was all about the make-believe.

It wasn't real.

Murderers, drug dealers, hit men, pimps, even a psychiatric patient... he'd slipped into each of the roles without blinking. He'd always found it easy and truth be told he'd perhaps been a little too good playing the ol' psych patient. An over zealous nurse and taken one look at him as soon as he'd come onto shift and immediately had put him in a straightjacket and pumped his bloodstream with enough sedatives to fell an elephant. Considering everyone should have been briefed that he wasn't a real nut-job but a Federal Agent, Gibbs had not been amused when he'd found his agent a dribbling, bombed out mess in a bare isolation room.

And wasn't proud of some of the things he'd had to do to maintain his cover throughout the years.

During the Macaluso op he'd had to beat the crap out of several people - if you were a rising star in a Mafioso clan, giving someone a limp slap on the wrist wasn't really going to cut it. If the truth be known, beating men who chose to make their living dealing drugs to high-school kids wasn't something he could get too worried over.

He'd always been comfortable taking on a second skin. It suited the latent actor in him and he never had a problem morphing into someone else; he'd certainly seen enough films to crib a little from each.

It also helped that he'd spent most of his early childhood pretending to be someone else, Robin Hood, Zorro, anyone with a sense of daring do and imaginary friends filled the void and became his sidekicks.

Tony gave an amused snort.

And didn't that make him sound like a sad little fucker, but it was really no different to what McGee was doing as an adult when he sat at his computer channeling his inner Elf Lord.

Everyone needed a little escapism in their lives. Didn't they? He just took it to the extreme as a kid. He remembered it well; one day it was Gregory Peck, the next Cary Grant or John Wayne. Charging through the trees, battling the imaginary bad guys in the woods at the back of his house. He'd found as an adult that undercover work was really just a natural progression from that.

It was usually so easy for him to slip on another mask and playact, even if he had to be the bad guy. He knew that things weren't always black and white. Just look at Jeffery White. Under that weedy, nerdy exterior he'd been a fully-fledged throat-slitting psycho, but all Tony had seen was the scared little boy who had never belonged. The kid who had been bullied and pushed around until he'd snapped. Jeffery's father had had a hand in making him that way, as had every person who'd trodden on him throughout the years.

That didn't excuse what Jeffery did in any way, but Tony understood why the man was like he was. And now Tony could use that the next time he had to go undercover. That's what made him believable and that is what made him good at what he did. Having that spark of understanding of what drove people to kill, what made people desperate -without that you were just a one dimensional cardboard cut out of who you were trying to be, and that's why a lot of cops got made when undercover. Without that spark of empathy, without that understanding, there was no way you could go undercover with any realism.

Tony hugged the cushion tighter to his chest and shut his eyes.

And that's why he would fail this time.

He couldn't even begin to understand what went on in a person's mind to make them think of kids in that way. To him, children were not sexual beings in any shape or form. They, they were children, damn it. They were innocent beings that should incite a fierce sense of protectiveness in an adult.

That is how it went.

No excuses.

Oh, as a cop he'd read many reports and studies on the subject, papers and statistics that showed a high percentage of abused kids went on to become abusers themselves, but he could never, ever get his head around that one. He'd spent most of his childhood lonely and ignored and he knew that if he ever became a parent he'd do his up most to make sure no child of his would ever be made to feel that way. Surely the same applied if you been subjected to sexual abuse as a child? Knowing how it felt, wouldn't you go to the other extreme as an adult, trying to make sure that a child never felt that same fear?

Tony just couldn't understand it, no matter how may psychologists tried to explain it.

And because he couldn't understand it, there was not a hope in hell that he'd be able to empathize with Commander Grey, or crawl under the skin of Anthony DiMatteo, the rich ass-hole who liked a side order of kiddy porn.

It made him feel tainted even thinking about what he would have to do. The way he felt about child abuse, he was worried that he'd end up screwing the Op and his career by saving the taxpayer some money and just pulling his gun on the Commander.

Tony swallowed hard and prayed with all his might that this wouldn't be as bad as he thought it was going to be. Maybe all the Intel they had was wrong and instead of the profile showing that Grey was a highly intelligent, sneaky, predatory shark, the Commander might actually be a complacent idiot, who would show him a laptop stuffed full of disgusting images without any prompting and that would be that. He'd arrest the pervert and be home for celebratory tea and crumpets before nightfall tomorrow.

Yeah, and he was the freaking Queen of Sheba.

Tony rubbed his hand across his face and checked his watch.

Shit.

He needed to get a move on. He had to go pick up his new car from the dealership, and boy would SecNav have a coronary when he was the bill for that one. Also, he wanted to check out his new apartment and the surrounding area so he could get his bearings before he started work in the morning.

Tony took one last look around and checked that everything was switched off before he picked up his bags.

Just as he was about to shut the door he saw Muriel's Tupperware box of shortbread on the side. He grabbed it and said one last goodbye to his apartment.

The phone started to ring as he locked the door.

Call him a coward but he decided to ignore it.

Tony sat in the back of a cab sharing his shortbread with the driver. He only had one ear open to the affable Indian's idle chatter about his extended family. His mind preoccupied with his mission.

Tony knew that Gibbs would be angry, but he also hoped that his boss would be perceptive enough to know why he left without saying a word as per the Directors orders. Tony would put his hand up and admit it, he was still wary of Vance. His time on the Ronald Regean was still very fresh in his mind.

He had two options.

Tell Gibbs about the op and risk being sent into exile again by Vance; or obey orders and end up a basket case because he didn't think he could do this on his own.

Tony brushed crumbs off his chest and feigned interest in what the driver was saying, but all that was going through his brain was the fact he was definitely up shit creek without a paddle with this assignment.

* * *

Gibbs hammered on the door again.

"You've missed him."

Gibbs turned and saw Tony's neighbor standing at his door.

"Hi Frank," He walked over and held out his hand. They'd met several times throughout the years, and DiNozzo talked about the elderly couple enough for him to feel like he knew them better than he actually did.

"Jethro. Long time no see." The ex-cop gripped his hand tightly.

"Do you know where he's gone?" Gibbs indicated to Tony's door.

"So you're not part of the Op then." Frank frowned.

"Nope, not this one Frank, you know how it is." It wasn't often he'd admit to being out of the loop but now was not the time for pride. "Did he tell you anything about it?"

Frank shook his head.

"You know DiNozzo, he knows how to keep his mouth shut. Just said he was going away for a couple of months."

Not that he'd expected Tony to spill to his neighbor but it was worth a try.

"Okay, thanks," he sighed and turned to leave. He took a couple of steps before he turned around again.

"How'd he seem to you?" he asked.

Frank paused before answering.

"Honestly? Not good. Oh, he tried to give me some crap about missing his apartment when I called him on it but to me he looked downright depressed and shit scared Jethro."

Gibbs locked eyes with the older man.

As an ex-homicide cop Frank knew the implications of his words better than most.

Gibbs ran a hand over his face.

This just kept getting better and better.

Dammit DiNozzo, what the hell were they making you do?

**TBC**

**Warning: The Spank Fairy will come and visit all of you who don't click on that little review button. :)  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hello all. Sorry this has been a long time coming but work and life has been rather hectic. This _is_ quite a long chapter so I hope that makes up for my tardiness.  
**

**A huge thank you to the fabulous _Princess Fi_ for beta'ing again. **

**Cheeks**

**xx**

* * *

_Week 3_

Tony would admit that the first couple of weeks of his new 'job' turned out to be more enjoyable than he'd expected. The gym he was working at was high end all the way and pandered to its members with extra large fluffy towels and personalized toiletries on tap. There were several steam rooms, a large pool and a Jacuzzi to wind down in afterwards. The place even had a small bar so the patrons could enjoy a nice civilized glass of Chardonnay before they went home. A freaking bar in a gym! That was an oxymoron if ever there was one and Tony was still laughing about it.

The gym - because he refused to call it 'the club' as he was encouraged to do by the corporate owners – was strictly for the pampered masses only, there were no aggressive and sweaty meatheads gulping down steroids here. In fact, Tony wouldn't be surprised if the place didn't have several politely worded edicts that covered the delicate subject of excessive sweating and body odors in the thick pamphlet on the do's and don'ts of the gym. It certainly seemed like Marcel, the anally retentive manager, had a rule for everything. He was an effeminate version of Gibbs in that way, but Tony worked out early on that if he smiled enough and asked about the guy's army of budgerigars then he was pretty much forgiven anything, even if it did mean having to put up with Marcel always 'needing' to speak to him whenever he happened to be naked in the shower.

As a job it was piss easy. Tony was always good at talking the talk and being a good personal trainer was mainly down to being able to motivate people. He had no seriously out of shape clients, with the exception of Shelley, a sad eyed politician's wife who desperately wanted to shift 20 pounds so her husband of twenty years wouldn't be so embarrassed of her. Tony worked hard with her on her weight but he found himself mainly concentrating on her confidence, which was no existent after years of put-downs. He flirted outrageously with her so she'd see that even though she wasn't a size zero, she was beautiful and sexy no matter what her fuckwit of a husband might say.

But he'd also learnt early on that the general rule was 'shallow, thy name is gym membership.'

In general Tony's clients treated him like the hired hand. The men just wanted his help to look good for their younger mistresses and the women popped amphetamines to keep their weight down so they could compete with the other women on their gated communities – and the mistresses. Fitness for them wasn't remotely about health but purely about what was on the outside.

A trained monkey could do what he did, he thought disgustedly. He spent his days either working in his office compiling exercise programs or out on the floor talking to clients and making sure no one strained any muscles as they worked out.

The women were certainly easy on the eye and it beat getting shot at for a living but it was kind of like taking an extended vacation, and he knew before long that he'd be itching to get back to normality.

* * *

_Week 4_

For several weeks Tony just watched Commander Grey from afar much to Vance's annoyance, but Tony knew what he was doing. Slow was always the way to go in an op like this. If he blundered in and immediately tried to be best buddies with the Commander then Tony knew he could well blow it.

Also if the Commander was as astute as his profile said, he might well smell a rat in the long run.

Nope, Grey had to be the one to make the first move if this was going to work even if it frustrated Vance who wanted quicker results. Tony ignored the Director's orders and did it his way.

By the forth week his tactic worked.

After carefully watching Grey's movements each day Tony had timed it so he'd left the gym at the same time as him. As Tony threw his gym bag in the back of his car the Commander had finally approached him.

The car drew Grey in, as he knew it would. From the first morning Tony had left 'her' in his parking spot she had attracted attention making him feel totally justified in spending the exorbitant amount of SecNav's money leasing the steel gray Aston Martin BDS coupe. To be honest he'd also been living the dream because there wasn't a hope in hell he'd ever afford an Aston on the a fed's wages so why not have a little compensation for an op he hadn't wanted in the first place. Vance had sounded amused when he'd signed off on the car; no doubt he could still smell the SecNav's stale cigar smoke in his office.

"Nice car." Grey commented as he stopped next to where Tony stood.

"Thanks." Tony acted cool even though his heart started pumping. "Couldn't resist. The closest I'll ever get to being Bond."

Grey laughed and had slowly walked around the car, trailing his fingers over the graceful curves.

"Makes my Porsche Boxster look like it came with a Happy Meal. How much did a car like this set you back?" Grey asked.

Tony knew he was spot on with his assessment of the Commander. Although the man was clearly green with envy he'd still managed to brag that he too drove a decent car.

"Two-hundred and sixty-five thou," Tony said casually as if it were a drop in the ocean.

Grey let out a low whistle.

Tony folded his arms and waited for the next question. Grey had no class and he would ask. He wasn't disappointed

"How the hell can you afford that on a personal trainer's wages?" Grey stared at the car with a renewed lust.

Tony laughed.

"I don't, let's just say my forbearers were canny when it came to investments. I guess I'm the proverbial black sheep of the family, couldn't see myself working eighteen hour days in the family's business so I chose my own path much to my father's distress. Luckily I was my Grandfather's favorite."

Grey looked interested at that. The guy was definitely motivated by money and what connections that might bring him. Tony could see the cogs working as Grey took in his accent and demeanor for the first time as a human being rather than 'staff'.

"What does a quarter of a mil car handle like?" Grey asked.

"5.9 Litre, 48-valve V12 engine…goes like shit of a shovel." Tony replied.

Grey was practically drooling. Tony decided it was time to really make an impression on the man.

"Here." He tossed the Aston fob over to Grey. "Take her for a spin."

Grey looked flabbergasted.

"You serious?"

"Yeah, tell you what, take her out and come get me in the bar when you're done playing." Tony tilted his head and folded his arms.

Grey looked like a kid in a sweetshop. He blinked in wonder at Tony as if he was still working out if he was being serious.

"Go on!" Tony laughed. "Trust me, some things in life you got to do before you die and driving that baby is definitely one of them."

Grey beamed as he got in the car.

Tony waved and made his way back into the club as if he didn't care that a stranger was taking out his very expensive car out for a joy ride. As he heard the roar of the engine Tony winced. If Grey so much as put a scratch in that bodywork he'd take his gun out and shoot him, op or no op.

Tony was tossing back the last of his beer when Grey bounded over to him twenty minutes later.

"Shit, that is some car! Another one?" Grey nodded to the barman and ordered drinks for them both.

They both got drunk as skunks and talked until the bar had shut.

Grey then suggested they moved it downtown.

They hopped from bar to bar, before they finally ended up at a sleazy lap-dancing joint. They spent an hour stuffing tens down the g-strings of the dancers before Grey's wife had called him home. She didn't sound happy and Grey acted like a kid who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

They both poured into cabs to head back to their respective homes with Grey telling Tony he was a 'hell of a cool guy' and they must do it again.

Tony knew he'd played it right. He was in.

* * *

_Week 5_

Gibbs made his way up to the kitchen from the basement to refill his coffee. He poured the last of the jug into his mug just as the doorbell rang.

Gibbs couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face.

The delivery driver handed over a large bag and waved away his question as to how much he owed. It was paid for, as usual.

Gibbs shut the door and took the steaming bag back to the kitchen. He opened it up and took a deep sniff as the odor of cooked meat wafted up.

"DiNozzo, you must have known." He spoke to the empty room as he pulled out the foiled wrapped roasted goat, flatbreads and various salads and dips.

He stuffed a succulent wad of charred goat into his mouth and chewed.

The deliveries had started a couple of days after Tony's departure. The first time it had been pizzas delivered to the bullpen. Then a bouquet of flowers for Abby had turned up a few days later. Over the weeks bourbon for him, joke books for McGee, specialty teas for Duck, fancy body products for Ziva and foreign beer for Palmer had all turned up randomly with no notes or messages but they were pure DiNozzo and Gibbs was pleased that his second had found a way to let him know that he was okay.

Gibbs was beyond pissed that they had found no trail of the operation. Whatever DiNozzo was doing had been hidden well and it was driving him nuts.

Whichever office had set up DiNozzo's new identity had wiped all trace afterwards. McGee and Abby even hacked into Vance's computer every few days to see if there was any news, but there was nothing that they could link to DiNozzo. Short of tapping the Director's line, which would get them all fired, there was nothing more they could do. At least they knew that DiNozzo was still in the Washington area. After questioning the various take-outs Gibbs had managed to confirm that Tony had been the one placing the orders and had paid in cash.

Gibbs opened a beer and settled down at the kitchen table to do the roasted goat justice. As he ate he thought about how quiet the bullpen was without DiNozzo. The man managed to piss them all off with his noise and general boisterousness when he was around, but it was only when he wasn't there that they realized how much they needed the distraction that he brought to the job. And it wasn't just his team who was missing him; the whole floor seemed quieter without the mischievous influence of DiNozzo.

Whilst Gibbs was pissed that Tony hadn't just picked up the phone and called him at least he was communicating in a way.

Gibbs just hoped that Tony had the sense to know not to get in too deep with whatever was going on. DiNozzo had a problem winding down at the best of times even with the support of his team surrounding him. Gibbs' main concern was the fact that the Director was DiNozzo's sole contact and there wasn't a hope in hell of Tony opening up to Leon if he was feeling overwhelmed.

Over the years he'd learned to read his agent well, knew what the subtle changes in Tony's voice and general demeanor meant and could call him on it. Vance certainly wouldn't know how to recognise and defuse DiNozzo if he was imploding.

Gibbs drained his beer in several gulps.

He just _wished_ Tony would damn well call. Then he'd know for sure how well he was faring and maybe then he'd be finally able to relax.

* * *

_Week 5_

Tony hated the Commander with a passion. The guy was a superficial, arrogant ass at best but that was small potatoes compared to the other character traits that were slowly coming to the surface.

If he had any doubts about where Grey's true desires lay, they had completely vanished now he'd spent time with him. Knowing what to look for it was easy for him to pick up on the behavior of a predator.

Tony followed Grey when he could.

He observed Grey as he taught the kids at the local pool. He'd watched from behind the glass spectator's galley as Gray's interacted with the kids. Tony saw watched week after week as Grey taught. It wasn't accidental that the guy spent more time with the girls in the group, his hands lingering a little too long for Tony's liking as he posed their limbs and helped than with their strokes.

They had no Intel to show that Grey had ever acted on his impulses but Tony was starting to think that he had. In addition to what he'd seen at the pool, he'd also watched the Commander when he was with his daughter's friends and it all rang warning bells in his mind. The tickling sessions and the roughhousing would seem innocent to anyone who didn't know that Grey liked watching films of kids getting molested.

Tony felt tainted just being in his presence but he had to smile and act like the guy was the greatest thing since sliced bread.

He spent most of the evenings feeling sick to the stomach but he kept telling himself. It was just a job and he tried hard to control his instinctive response.

Pity that tactic wasn't working.

* * *

_Week 6_

"More coffee?" Sarah asked.

They were sitting in the sun lounge just off the large kitchen.

Sarah, Grey's wife pitied Tony for his bachelor status from day one. She adopted him, cooking Tony meals on the assumption that he obviously didn't eat properly, and generally fussing over him like a mother hen. Tony was always made to feel welcome at their house, and over the weeks he'd learned that Sarah Grey was a seriously nice woman. She was a little naïve and ditsy in a way that most women were who'd grown up cosseted by wealth. She'd probably never had to make a hard decision in her life beyond what shoes to buy, he thought ruefully.

And whilst Tony had known women who turned a blind eye to whatever their husbands were doing either out of loyalty or fear, but he got the impression that Sarah Grey really didn't have a clue what type of a man the Commander was, and it saddened him to think that he was going to rip her safe little world apart and there was nothing he could do to stop it happening.

Tony was the Trojan horse she'd pulled into her house and she would never forgive herself for that when this was over.

"Yes please, I think I'm becoming addicted to your coffee." He handed his cup over.

"French roast with a hint of chicory," Sarah smiled as she poured more into his cup from the silver coffee pot and added cream. "I'm sorry Charles is late. Some crisis at work, he said. He told me to tell you he shouldn't be long."

"No problem, we were just going for a run." Tony sipped his coffee and gave a little moan of pleasure. "To be honest I'm quite glad to be able to sit down. I don't think I stopped all day."

"I don't know how you do it. I just break out in a sweat just thinking about exercise." Sarah laughed.

"You get used to it. Most of the time I love it, but sometimes just kicking back and watching TV sounds like a good idea."

Molly Grey wandered in from the den trailing a blue flannel blankie and eyed the plate of cookies on the table.

"Mommy, I want a cookie," she announced.

Molly Grey was a four-year-old bundle of cuteness, her blond curly hair framing her face and her cheeks seeming to have a permanent blush of pink that added to her doll like quality.

"What's the magic word?" Sarah smiled at Tony as she held up a chocolate chip cookie to her daughter.

"_Now_?" The little girl replied quietly and looked confused as she put her thumb in her mouth. She stood and sucked hard as she rubbed the corner of the blanket over her nose.

"_Molly!_" Sarah admonished.

The little girl turned her solemn gaze Tony's way.

"Please," he mouthed to her.

She stared for a few seconds before she took the thumb out of her mouth and grinned.

"Please?"she said proudly as she turned back to her mom.

"Good girl. There you go, Pumpkin." Sarah handed her daughter the cookie.

Molly clambered up on the couch next to Tony and snuggled in close, showing him the cookie she had firmly clamped in her sweaty little hand.

"Do you want milk with that, baby?"

Molly nodded shyly and Sarah excused herself.

Tony leaned forward to get his coffee and Molly pounced. She shoved the cookie into his mouth.

"Thanffs." He tried to say as he chewed. "Yummy."

Molly seemed pleased with his response and she pushed another cookie into his mouth, by the third one he suspected she was either going for the world record in how many baked goods she could fit in his mouth at one time or she was the spawn of the devil and was trying to kill him by ramming cookies down his throat.

Tony frantically chewed as she grabbed another off the plate. He was never sure how to act around kids but she seemed so happy shoving food into his face, if the big grin on her face was anything to go by, so he just went with it.

"Molly-Mae, leave poor Tony alone!" Sarah cried.

"S'okay." Tony tried to say through the mouthful of dry crumbs.

Molly giggled and watched as Tony swallowed.

He grabbed his coffee cup and gratefully took a large mouthful to wash down the cookies.

"Thank you Molly-Moo, that was delicious but I'm full now." Tony made a big show of patting his stomach.

Molly nodded at that and she picked up a cookie from the plate and started to nibble the chocolate chips off the top.

"You've made a friend there. Molly is usually shy around men." Sarah stated.

Tony smiled and looked at the little girl as she munched.

Dammit, he hated his Op. Every time a comment like that was made he immediately jumped to conclusions, even though it was perfectly normal for little girls to be weary of strangers.

"She knows a fellow cookie junkie when she sees one." Tony winked and Molly giggled even though she probably didn't understand what he said.

"Maybe you can help Charles tomorrow?" Sarah asked.

Tony raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Madeline begged for two of her new school friends to come for a sleepover tomorrow night but I forgot I promised to attend a charity fundraiser at the hospital. Charles stepped in and said that he'd be okay on his own." Sarah let out an amused snort. "I really don't think he knows what he's letting himself in for but Maddy would have been so disappointed. She's found it hard moving and Charles said it wouldn't be fair on her to cancel. I married a good man, I can't imagine many men who would volunteer to supervise a girly sleepover."

Jesus Christ, Tony thought. This just kept getting better and better.

Tony kept the smile on his face as he listened to Sarah's obvious admiration for her husband even though his jaw was clenching tightly. He tried to calm down and had to call on every ounce of his acting skills.

"He's a braver man than I." Tony laughed and shook his head.

"Three six-year-olds sugared up on soda and candy, plus Dexter and this Madame." Sarah nodded to her youngest daughter. "I'm not sure he'll survive."

"Nope. Maybe I should say my goodbye's now." Tony shook his head in jest.

Sarah luckily moved on to talk about the fundraiser and Tony nodded in all the right places as his brain worked overtime. He was frantically trying to think of an out when Molly provided the perfect distraction.

The little girl had finished her cookie and instead of wiping her hands on her blankie she chose to use Tony's white tee-shirt leaving a brown, greasy stain on his chest.

"Molly!" Sarah swooped and picked up her grubby daughter. "I'm so sorry Tony."

"No problem, what's a little chocolate between friends." Tony nonchalantly shrugged.

"I'll just clean this little devil off. Excuse me."

And then they were gone.

Tony had his cell in his hand when they came back.

"Are you sure you can't deal with this. Uh huh, Uh huh." He made a show of looking annoyed as he talked into the empty line. "Okay, okay, I'm on my way."

He shut his cell with a sigh.

"Problems?" Sarah asked.

"The boiler had gone on the fritz in one of my apartments in Georgetown. The tenants are not happy. I've must go and try and sort it out. I wonder why I pay agents to deal as they always seem to be unreachable when anything happens."

Tony got up and made for the door.

"Sorry, but can you give my apologies to Charles, I'll probably see him for poker night on Saturday now."

He leaned forward and gave Sarah a peck on the cheek and tapped Molly on the nose.

"Bye ladies."

They both waved as he pulled away in his car. Tony cursed as he gripped the steering wheel tightly and put his foot down on the accelerator.

The hatred he already felt for Grey intensified. Hiding behind a façade of a caring parent was a deadly predator who was getting exactly what he wanted.

Over his dead body. There was no way Tony was going to leave Grey alone in the house with those kids.

When he reached the penthouse he immediately logged onto the NCIS database and ran a search. While it ran, Tony made his way into the large bedroom and stripped out of his running kit. He opened the wardrobe and selected one of the suits he'd brought with him but had yet to wear. Crisp white shirt and a plain tie completed his look.

He reached under his mattress and pulled out his badge from its hiding place and shoved it into his pocket.

By the time he was ready the search had finished. Tony read the address and carefully deleted the search off the laptop's hard drive.

The cab he'd called was waiting out on the curb. He loved the Aston Martin but it was hardly inconspicuous and he couldn't risk Grey seeing him parked in the neighborhood. Tony gave the driver the address and sat back trying to figure out his next move.

The cab pulled up outside a mock Tudor house. After seeing the real thing in England these themed new builds looked a little too Disney for his tastes, but real or not the house was certainly not cheap.

"Can you keep the meter running? I shouldn't be long." Tony handed the guy a twenty as a show of good faith that he wasn't pulling a fast one.

"Sure, pal, you're the boss." The driver turned up the radio and pulled his hat down over his eyes.

Tony walked up the drive and rang the doorbell.

A short, balding man in his forties opened the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked with a frown.

"Lieutenant Stephen Marshall?" Tony asked.

"Yes," the Lieutenant answered.

Tony flipped his badge open.

"Special Agent DiNozzo, NCIS, may I come in, Sir."

Lieutenant Marshall's frown deepened as he looked at the badge. To a navy man, an NCIS badge usually signaled trouble.

The lieutenant stepped back and Tony walked into the wood paneled hall.

"Is your wife around, Sir?" Tony asked.

"She's in the den with the twins. Look what is this about Agent DiNozzo?"

"I need to speak to you both, alone if that is okay?"

Tony was led into a spacious lounge with a large stone fireplace and faux beams. A slim and attractive blond woman was curled up on the couch with a magazine whilst the two girls watched Hannah Montana on the TV.

"Special Agent DiNozzo, this is my wife Jacqueline."

The woman sat up. She frowned anxiously, clearly trying to think what they might have done to warrant a visit from a federal agent.

"You have a beautiful house, Mrs. Marshall," Tony said politely as he gazed around the room.

"Thank you," she responded warily.

"Girls, can you watch that up to your room." Lieutenant Marshall turned off the TV and both girls scampered out of the room.

"What is this about?"

Tony took a deep breath.

"Lieutenant Marshall, do you know a Commander Charles Grey? He transferred to Washington from Norfolk several months ago," Tony asked.

"Yes." The frown was back. "The Commander and I served together many years ago."

"And your daughters are friends with Madeline Grey, is that correct."

"Yes." Mrs. Marshall confirmed and looked nervously at her husband. "The girls became friends at a welcome to the community barbeque we held for the Greys. I don't understand. Why are you asking?"

"I understand that both girls have been invited to a sleepover at the Grey's house tomorrow night." Tony bit the inside of his cheek. "I suggest that you cancel. Make some excuse, a stomach bug or something but cancel."

Both faces looking at him in confusion. The penny would drop soon but now they were both just trying to understand.

Tony rubbed a palm over the knee of his pants.

He was sweating. Shit this shouldn't be so hard but he knew he was close to blowing the whole operation so he had to tread carefully.

"And in the future I suggest that any further play dates are perhaps held here or are supervised by either one of you." He spoke gently.

And there it was, understanding on the face of a father. The questions about Commander Grey slid into place.

"What are you implying?" Lieutenant Marshall raised his voice.

"Oh, dear God, no." Mrs. Marshall's eyes started to well up. One of her hands crept up to her mouth.

"Are you saying what I think you are?" Marshall stood up and started pacing.

"Sir, I understand that emotions are high right now, I really do, but I need to speak to your daughters." Tony stood and spoke firmly and with authority, trying to calm the lieutenant. The man nodded numbly and went to the door and called the two girls down.

"Anna, Mary, this is Spec…" Marshall started but Tony butted in

"Tony, I'm Tony. Hi." He smiled at the twins as they sat down on the couch next to their mother. Tony sat and scooted to the edge of his seat. "I know Madeline, I hear she's your friend too, right?"

Both girls looked at their mom again and at her acquiescence they nodded a reply.

"You go and play at her house sometimes?"

Again, they both nodded. Tony was aware that the Lieutenant was still pacing and that was making both girls nervous. Tony turned and pointedly stared at the man until he stopped pacing and sat down. How long that would last, Tony didn't know so he quickly continued.

"Do you ever play with Madeline's dad?" He asked.

Mrs. Marshall choked back a sob and the girls looked worried.

"Answer the man." Marshall ordered.

Great, way too get the kids keyed up more, Tony thought.

"It's okay, you're not in any trouble." Tony smiled warmly. "Did Mr. Grey ever get you to do anything you didn't want to do?"

The girls looked at each other, then Anna spoke.

"He makes us wash our hands if we petted the cat, every time and he made us eat the broccoli on our plates when we had dinner their once." She said sulkily as if that had been an imposition.

Tony chuckled and let out a puff of air he'd been holding.

"Okay, sweetie, apart from making you wash your hands and eat broccoli did he ever …" Tony swallowed. "Did he touch you anywhere you didn't like?"

Again both girls looked at each other before answering.

"Bad touching?" Mary asked boldly.

"Yeah, bad touching." He should have figured in this day and age that talk would have happened.

"No, he tickles us and ruffles our hair." Both girls looked disinterested now.

"Are you sure he's never touched you? We wont be mad, I promise, but you've got to tell us the truth, it's very important." Marshall leaned forward and grasped his daughters' hands.

Again both girls shook their heads. Tony stared hard but he couldn't see that the sisters were hiding anything or looking upset.

"Okay, thanks. You can go back to Hannah Montana now." Tony smiled again.

The girls looked at their parents for confirmation that they could go then ran out the room and up the stairs, both giggling and stomping their feet.

"You obviously know them better than I do. Do you think they were hiding anything?" Tony asked.

"No, trust me I can tell if they are lying and they aren't. Thank God." Mrs. Marshall's hands were shaking but at least the tears had retreated. Both parents looked relieved but Tony could still see the festering anger in the lieutenant's eyes.

"Could I have a glass of water Mrs. Marshall?" Tony asked.

"Certainly." She jumped up and left the room.

"I'm going to speak off the record here Lieutenant." Tony turned to the man opposite. "I understand that you want to head straight round to the Commander's house and beat the crap out of him and if things were different I'd probably let you and join in but we can't. This is an ongoing investigation and if you or your wife breathes a word of this to anyone then I won't be able to bring him down. Let me do my job and we'll get the bastard. Your daughters are safe now, just keep telling yourself that and please let me do my job."

Tony started at him hard. Eventually the lieutenant nodded.

"I promise you that if it's the last thing I do I'll get the bastard." Tony held out his hand and Marshall took it and shook.

"Thank you and make sure you do or I will take the law into my own hands. And that is off the record too."

Tony nodded, as much as he wanted to give the standard speech about taking the law into his hands he found he couldn't.

Mrs. Marshall came back in carrying a tall glass of water. Tony thanked her and took a long swallow. He placed the glass on a coaster on the table and stood.

"I better be on my way."

"Thank you again, Agent DiNozzo." The lieutenant shook his hand again.

They both walked him to the door and he got the impression they wouldn't be letting their daughters out of their sight for the foreseeable future.

The cab driver greeted him happily as Tony opened the door.

He sat in the back of the cab and let out a large sigh.

Tony leaned forward and asked the driver to turn around and head towards town. He didn't want to go home, he needed a drink and some time to work up the courage to tell Vance what he'd done.

If Marshall talked or confronted Grey, then he was as good as screwed. Not only would Vance want to disembowel him but also the SecNav would probably join in.

He was drunk by the time he got home. It probably hadn't been a good idea to call the director but he had and the conversation went about as well as he thought it would.

Vance totally flipped and threatened to pull him from the op. Tony had let the director's angry tirade wash over him as he'd slumped down on the hall floor trying to focus on the call through the haze of too much alcohol.

But no matter what Vance said, Tony knew that he wouldn't change what he done, regardless of whether the Marshalls talked or not.

There was no way Tony would put the operation before the two girl's welfare, and he said as much to Vance.

His drunken parting shot had been to tell Vance to think _more_ like a father and _less_ like the director of a federal agency.

Then he ended the conversation by slamming the phone down just as the director erupted a second time.

His last conscious thought before passing out cold was to wonder if he'd still have a job in the morning.

**TBC**

**The Spank Fairy is still on patrol so click that review button. ;)  
**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Sorry it's been a while coming! Since finishing 'convincing' my shiney new London consultant decided to put me on Oxycontin permanently - I think that is fic karma at work right there! Kind of ironic considering the plot line of 'Convincing'. I have found it has has robbed me of my writing mojo and turned me into a bit of a cabbage...well, more cabbage-like than normal should I say! Hee.**_

_**Plus, I also stupidly managed to delete half this chapter and had to re-write it again. Pah, what a prawn, huh! :)**_

_**Anyway, thank you to the lovely Tiffany for beta-ing this chapter and thanks for being patient and for all the wonderful reviews and alerts.**_

_***snogs***_

_**Cheeks**_

_**xx**_

* * *

It was dark by the time Leon Vance left the Navy Yard. He had tried hard over the years to keep a good work/home life balance as he refused to be the sort of father who never saw his kids because he was always at the office, but that wasn't always possible in his position. Today was one of those days where leaving the office at a reasonable time had been a mere pipedream.

He'd had to place an urgent call to the SecNav, updating him on the recent and potentially problematic development. Then he'd run damage limitation, contacting Lieutenant Marshall to ensure his discretion. A call from the director of NCIS ensured that the man knew how much shit he'd be in if he confronted Grey and it all seemed to be under control. The Marshall's were going to take a vacation to Florida to see the in-laws. Leon had arranged leave with the Lieutenant's CO personally.

Thankfully, he seemed to have managed to put out any immediate fire.

Before tonight he'd have put good money on DiNozzo acting like a petulant child during an argument, doing his best to try and shift any blame away from his own actions, but in reality the agent had been the exact opposite. That had shaken him a little because he'd always prided himself in being able to read people. He really had thought he had DiNozzo all figured out.

As he drove home, DiNozzo's verbal slap down kept playing and replaying in his head in a continual loop.

'_I stand by my decision. If you'd think more like a father and less like the director of a federal agency then you'd understand that there is no way I would put two children in a potentially damaging situation like that. And if you really expected me to be the type of man who would stand back and let a pedophile molest two girls for the good of the operation then I've got to say you picked the wrong man for the job.'_

DiNozzo had spoken quietly and calmly and it shamed him all the more because it hadn't been said in anger. And the real kicker was DiNozzo had been right. The father in him completely sided with Tony while the director in him was only thinking of the money being spent and the fact that the Secretary of the Navy was breathing down his neck.

Leon was ashamed now because replaying the whole conversation back in his mind, everything DiNozzo had said had a quiet dignity about it, the actions of a man who wouldn't be compromised no matter who he was dealing with. He found himself respecting Agent DiNozzo a whole lot more, as much as it galled him to admit that to himself.

For the first time Leon started to see what his predecessors had seen and again he kicked himself for not looking deeper. He went through old case files and read up on past operations that DiNozzo had led just to try and get a better handle on the man.

He'd ended by spending several hours going through the case reports on Director Shepherds misguided Rene Benoit/La Grenouille op, this time keeping an open mind and reading it more from DiNozzo's perspective.

He'd always known the operation was misconceived from the start, but this time as he read, he found himself actually sympathizing with DiNozzo. It was obvious now that the agent had been played by Jenny.

Leon had always viewed that op as a screw up and he'd laid most of that blame at DiNozzo's door for being unprofessional, but reading it again with a more open mind he could plainly see that Tony should never have been undercover for that long given the task assigned.

It had only taken Patty Hearst two months for Stockholm syndrome to kick in and for her to start believing in the Symbionese Liberation Army's propaganda. In spending six months in continuous contact with Beniot's daughter it was little wonder that Tony lost sight of the operation and had started to accept the relationship as real.

What also struck him was that the whole time that op was going on DiNozzo had also been team lead to the Major Case Response Team whilst Gibbs had taken his 'sabbatical' to Mexico. Scanning those months' cases on the online databases he found that there hadn't been a dip in closure rates either. In addition, he found himself most impressed that DiNozzo had still managed to keep the Beniot op secret for another three months after Gibbs had returned, and Gibbs was no slouch when it came to sniffing out subterfuge.

The whole operation had been a FUBAR from start to finish and it all added another layer to why Agent Gibbs had been a thorn in his side over the past few weeks.

By the time Vance pulled into his drive he was tired and cranky.

His wife, Jackie, met him at the door and kissed his cheek as she took his briefcase.

"Bad day?" she asked.

"Yeah." Leon sighed.

"Bad enough for a large whisky?" Jackie asked.

He nodded as his wife moved over to the drinks cabinet.

"I've kept some pork casserole warm in the oven if you're hungry."

"I'll have it later."

He took the drink and swirled it around in his glass.

"The kids in bed?"

"Both sound asleep, it's late."

Leon checked his watch. Time had gotten away from him; it was far later than he thought.

"Wanna talk about it?" his wife asked.

Leon huffed out a breath.

And he told her all about the operation. She listened quietly and didn't interrupt; she let him get it all out.

She always knew when he was at the end of his tether and she always knew how to bring him back down. His wife was his confidant and he shared more about his job than he strictly should have throughout the years. But he trusted her more than anything and he didn't think he could do what he did day in, day out without her support.

When he finished he sat back and waited.

"Leon Vance, I can't believe you reprimanded the man. What if it had been Kayla on that sleepover! How would you feel then?" Jackie was angry, as he knew she'd be. He felt like a kid being chastised by his mom, but then sometimes he needed that.

"I know, I just…" he sighed. There was no excuse, being stressed certainly didn't wash with his wife.

"That poor man, not only is he having to make decisions like that but he then has to have his boss shouting at him for it. If anyone should be playing the stress card it should be him, Leon. Are you making sure he's okay?"

"What?" Leon blinked. "DiNozzo is a highly trained undercover agent. He doesn't need to be babysat, Jackie."

"Leon, I can't believe you sometimes. Agent or not, you've taken him away from his family, isolated him and put him in this God awful situation. Do you really expect him not to be feeling it?"

"I haven't taken him away from any family. He's a bachelor, spends most of his time jumping every female that moves from what I've heard." He felt a stab of jealousy that she was going to bat for DiNozzo so he dropped that in because he knew his wife hated men like that, but she didn't bite. "Anyway, he's used to long ops and I told him I'm here if he needs to talk. I haven't just left him dangling."

Jackie just looked at him and narrowed her eyes.

"So you honestly think he's going to open up to the man who yells at him for protecting two little girls, Leon? Sometimes I want to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours."

Jackie stood and shook her head.

"I'm going to check on your supper."

Leon ran a hand over his face.

His wife was right; the chances of DiNozzo ever picking up the phone for any reason other than to report on the case was about as remote as Bigfoot being sighted on Capitol Hill.

He got his cell out and hit the speed dial for DiNozzo. It went directly to voicemail. Dammit.

Leon made his way upstairs; he took a moment to check on his son and daughter. Both were sound asleep, each sprawled out in an uncomfortable way as only children managed.

He then quickly changed into his running gear and hotfooted it back downstairs.

"Honey, I'm going out for a while, back soon," he called out as he grabbed his car keys. If he had turned around he would have seen the satisfied smile on his wife's face.

He parked several roads over from the penthouse and jogged the rest of the way, his black wool hat pulled low down on his brow. He kept to the shadows, not wanting to be seen. He stood outside the apartment block and waited. The concierge of the building was reading a book at the desk, eating a candy bar as he turned each page. After twenty minutes the man got up and entered a room behind the desk. Leon moved swiftly and ran towards the doors, using his swipe key to get into the foyer. He sprinted across the marble floor with his heart pounding as he made for the stairwell on the opposite wall. Damn, he'd missed this cloak and dagger stuff. You didn't get the same thrill sitting behind a desk.

He jogged up the stairs to the top floor and knocked on the penthouse door. Light from within the apartment streamed through the stained glass panel above the door but DiNozzo didn't answer.

"Come on," he muttered to the empty corridor. He knocked again. When there was still no response he used the spare key he had and opened the door.

He immediately skidded down the hall and fell to his knees next to the prone body that lay there on the floor, different scenarios flashing through his brain and none of them good.

The smell of alcohol assaulted him before he began to check over his agent and he deduced that Tony was sprawled on the floor because he was drunk rather than anything more ominous.

Great. But at least it was the lesser of two evils.

He shook a shoulder but all he got was a grunt and an irritable curse.

"Get up, DiNozzo. Can't be comfortable down there."

"Leave me 'lone." Tony muttered as he batted the hand away. Leon should have felt more annoyed, but the man sounded like his son when he tried to peel him out of his bed on a weekend.

Leon sighed and hauled the sleepy agent onto his feet without him waking up fully. He stumbled through the apartment and deposited Tony unceremoniously on the bed. As he threw over a blanket, the man was already snoring soundly again.

Leon stared at DiNozzo for a while.

He didn't know if the drinking had come after their earlier conversation or before; he'd been too angry to notice any slur in the man's voice. But this had all the hallmarks of someone who wasn't coping. Getting drunk enough to pass out on the floor was not something he could see Tony doing often, hell, certainly there was no way he could see Gibbs keeping someone on his team who had major issues with alcohol. And he certainly would have heard if that was the case with Agent DiNozzo. That kind of salacious tidbit always circulated around the yard at a lightning pace but he'd heard nothing. So he was left to wonder just how much this op was hurting the man.

He hated that his wife was right.

Gibbs harassing him at every opportunity suddenly made sense now. Leon had just thought that the man had been constantly marking his territory by asking about DiNozzo daily but now it was making more sense.

The man hadn't been asking to make a point; Gibbs was concerned but he didn't want to just come out and say it. Maybe that was out of pride or maybe he didn't want to make DiNozzo appear weak. Whatever the reason though, the concern was definitely there in hindsight.

He was also aware that the team was still doing their best to find out any information on the op, even hacking his computer. But any info on the case was kept on a flash drive, and he always used his home PC to update so he knew they'd find nothing. He could fire them all for what they were doing, but seeing as he'd actively encouraged that behavior in the past, any move to reprimand the team might come back and bite him on the ass, so he let it go.

What he also realized was the fierce loyalty Special Agent DiNozzo inspired in his team members that they would risk their jobs for him.

That was impressive too.

It wasn't often that Leon felt he was in over his head, but as he watched DiNozzo he decided that maybe this was one of those times. The man currently snoring on the bed was proving to be more of an enigma than he ever thought possible.

* * *

_Week 7_

Tony sat down on the couch and dialed Vance's home line.

"Tony." Vance's voice came over the line.

"Hey," Tony said.

"Hang on a sec; I'll just pick this up in a different room." Vance answered. It was Friday night and Tony could hear the sound of a TV in the background.

"Darling, I'm going to take this in the study." Tony heard Vance speak to his wife.

Tony waited until he heard a click on the line and then Vance was back.

"How's it going? You okay, Tony?" Vance asked and it sounded like he wanted an answer.

Again Vance was using his first name instead of the usual sterile 'DiNozzo'. Tony had waited in trepidation expecting a dressing down after the little 'spat' they'd had, but the monumental chewing out had never come. Instead there had been a steady stream of calls all week from Vance that seemed to have no purpose other than the director wanted to 'chat' with him. There was no denying it, Vance was being a lot less officious with him; Tony would even go so far to say that the director was actually being solicitous and friendly. The sudden change was strange and it was slightly creeping him out, to be honest.

This new 'frenemy' version of the director was a little hard to take.

Tony leaned back on the leather couch in his apartment.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Tony usually tried to call Vance when he was at the office but this couldn't wait until Monday.

"Nope, just kicking back with the kids, they get to stay up late on Fridays. What's up?" Vance questioned.

Tony took a deep breath.

"Um, I need you to do something for me."

"Name it." Vance responded.

Tony ran a hand over his face. He couldn't believe what he was going to ask but he couldn't see any other way and he'd spent many, many sleepless nights trying to figure out how he could move this op forward.

"I need you to send me some… images." Tony swallowed hard.

"Okay. What do you need?" Vance voice quickly lost its weekend jocularity and he let out a weary sigh.

Ignoring the nausea in the pit of his stomach Tony separated himself from the task and switched into Agent mode.

"Girls, aged between four and ten seem to be Grey's preference from what I can gather." Tony bit the inside of his cheek and gripped the phone tightly. There was no way he'd wanted to be the one to go looking for them.

"Okay, I'll sort that for you." Vance's voice was as equally professional but Tony could detect the same disgust he was feeling at having to talk about shit like this as if it was normal. He knew he had completely spoilt family night for Vance.

"Where you going with this?" Vance asked.

Tony went over his plan as Vance listened silently on the other end of the line.

He felt like crap when he put the phone down.

Over the weeks Tony had tried his best to sow the seed in Grey, hinting about Tony DiMatteo's dark underbelly without being obvious. After all, the Commander wasn't stupid and no one in their right mind would out themselves to someone they'd known for less than two months.

So Tony kept it vague, the odd subtle comment here and there, talking on and off about his fictional vacations in Bangkok and Thailand. But short of saying 'Hey pal, I go there to screw seriously underage prostitutes,' all he could hope was that Grey would eventually put his cryptic clues together if his plan worked, because there was no way he was going to start leering at little girls to get Grey to take notice.

* * *

Tony shoveled some peanuts into his face and washed them down with a long gulp of beer.

He threw down his cards.

"I fold," Tony sighed.

"Not your night, DiMatteo," Grey said smugly.

"Hey, you win some, you lose some. Just seems like I'm losing my shirt tonight," Tony laughed.

Tony knew that Grey asked him to host the poker game purely so he could show Tony DiMatteo's wealth off to his friends. Tony could understand that; he had to admit that the penthouse apartment was pretty damn impressive, all glass and chrome and clean contemporary lines. God knows what real estate in Woodley Park went for but it wouldn't be cheap, and that was without all the gadgets that came with the fully furnished place. Tony felt like he'd stepped into Q's lab when he'd first arrived as everything seemed to be controlled by a large black remote. The blinds, lights, even the shower all came to life at the push of a button. It was freaking amazing. He'd love to show this place to McGee; pity that was never going to happen.

Tony deliberately threw the next hand too so he could sit back and observe the group.

Four of Grey's naval colleagues were steadily drinking beer and talking about things they really shouldn't be disclosing, considering there was a 'civilian' present.

They were clearly trying to impress him with their tales of how hush-hush their jobs were. 'Tony DiMatteo' smiled and acted interested whilst the NCIS agent in him wanted to slap them silly for being so incredibly dumb, the commander included, for not stopping the steady stream of classified information that spewed out of their mouths. These weren't raw recruits who didn't know better, they were senior officers and he was a stranger to them. For all they knew he could be attached to a terrorist cell gleaning Intel and they were handing it to him on a plate. When this was over he'd nail them all for several serious security violations. Certainly Homeland security would have a field day with this when the op was over.

But for now all he could do was bite his lip and pretend that he was just a dumb shit playing poker with his new buddies, though normally he wouldn't have socialized with this bunch in a million years. When he'd been agent afloat these were exactly the type he'd avoided like the plague - although he'd really have to rethink using that phrase considering he hadn't actually managed to avoid the plague.

As Tony watched the play he mused that the really sick thing about this op was that he now found himself looking at everybody in a different light. He couldn't help thinking like he did.

Just why these men were friends with Grey?

Did they share more than a love of poker?

Had they formed some depraved club so they could swap their latest Internet finds?

Tony took a long swallow of his beer as he looked around the table.

This assignment was screwing with his brain, making him see monsters where none probably existed. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to have Vance check them out, just in case.

They came to a natural break and Tony suggested that it was a good time to stop for pizza. He had the local joint on speed dial and after the usual arguments over who wanted anchovies, who wanted olives, he placed an order.

People naturally scattered whilst they waited for the food to arrive. Two of Grey's buddies went out on the terrace to smoke and one headed for the bathroom before joining the others.

Grey joined him in the kitchen as he puttered around replenishing snack bowls and dumping empty beer bottles into the recycling can.

"Oh, I meant to ask you last time I was over but I forgot have you got that DVD Sarah lent you?" Grey asked. "She needs it back as she promised it to someone else."

"Oh shit, I forgot I had it!" Tony made a big show that he was thinking about where the DVD could be. Narrowing his eyes and screwing up his mouth. "It's either by the plasma in the lounge or by the TV in my bedroom; it's the third door along the hall. Can't remember where I had it last. Tell Sarah I really enjoyed it."

"Better you than me; it's a damn chick flick. No way you'd get me sitting through that crap." Grey grinned and went off in search of the disk.

"I'd do anything for your lovely wife," Tony called out to Grey's retreating back.

Tony knew that Grey wouldn't find the disk in the lounge. He waited until the commander made his way to the back of the apartment before he cautiously followed.

Tony crept along silently, stopping outside the bedroom. Thankfully Grey hadn't shut the door behind him and he could see Grey's reflection perfectly in the mirror he'd strategically hung on the wall opposite for that very purpose. One of his brighter ideas, he thought. Gibbs would be proud.

Tony watched Grey walk over to the maple sideboard under the TV and pick up his wife's copy of 'Mamma Mia'.

Instead of leaving the room now that he had the film, Grey paused and surreptitiously moved over to the bed just as Tony hoped he would.

Tony had spent an age staging the scene enough to pique Grey's interest.

The laptop was tantalizingly open an inch on the center of his bed and he'd carefully rumpled the covers enough to make it appear that he'd been laying there but the crowning glory, the sick pièce de résistance were the several artfully crumpled tissues next to the box of Kleenex. He hated doing that because of what it represented, but he'd needed to present a sordid tableau and he thought he'd achieved it.

Tony watched Grey tilt his head again as if he were making sure he wasn't going to get caught then he cautiously opened the laptop with interest. Tony hadn't left any images on the screen because he hadn't wanted it to be too easy but he'd left the history intact and all he could do was hope that Grey would be bold enough to go looking.

He was. The man started to nose around.

Tony watched as a gamut of expressions flashed across the commander's face as he slowly scrolled through each disgusting photograph Vance had sent him care of the FBI and Operation Ruby Slipper. There was definitely shock and incredulity on Grey's face as a fictional light bulb above the man's head lit up, fed by all the subliminal hints Tony had given throughout the weeks. But there was also something else that Tony couldn't quite read, or maybe he simply didn't want to because it looked way too much like desire.

He saw Grey laugh softly to himself and shake his head as if he couldn't believe what he'd found. And if he had any doubts before - which he hadn't – then the big shit-eating grin Grey gave as he reached down to palm himself through his slacks said it all.

Anger welled up inside Tony and he had to physically force himself to walk away.

He wasn't an aggressive person by nature, he could bring it when needed but he was fairly placid guy generally. But right now he was shocked at the fierce anger that filled him.

Tony quickly walked through the lounge and made for the drinks cabinet. He poured a large measure of Armagnac into a glass and knocked it back, wincing as it burned a line down his throat.

Tony really thought he had this all worked out, but actually seeing Grey clearly getting off on the photographs - the same images that had him throwing up less than four hours ago - was not something he'd prepared himself for and it actually scared him because he could literally feel his control slipping.

He felt his nostrils flaring with every deep exhalation and he was very much aware that there was only a thin, gossamer thread of common sense stopping him from giving into the primal rage that was urging him to go back into the bedroom and rid the world of a parasite like Grey. Of course his career would be shot to hell if he gave into the anger, but considering the provocation element surely many a judge would be sympathetic and he figured he'd probably only have to serve four to five years for involuntary manslaughter if he were lucky.

As pleasant a thought beating the crap out of Grey was, Tony knew he had to calm himself down before facing the man and he headed for the terrace where the rest of the poker group stood; he knew if he encountered Grey on a one to one basis now it wouldn't end well.

He drew on all his reserves when Grey finally joined them and acted like the life and soul of the party even though deep down he wanted to hurt the man.

Tony had never been so grateful for a pizza delivery in his life. It afforded the perfect distraction.

They wolfed the food down then got into the second half of the poker game.

This time round Tony didn't need to pretend to be bad at cards, as his mind really wasn't on the game. Grey kept throwing secretive Mona Lisa smiles his way but he ignored them because the commander wasn't aware that he'd been set up.

Tony found himself obsessing how this was going to play out.

Would Grey confront him or would he go for the blackmail side of things? Tony wouldn't be surprised if Grey went down that route. The man loved money and Tony had made no bones about how wealthy he was. If Grey did try to screw money out of him then that would make things tricky. At the very least they could prosecute for that alone, but that wasn't the end game.

The next three hours seemed to take an eternity but finally people started making noises about calling it a night. Tony couldn't remember ever feeling so tired, but then high anxiety tended to take it out of you.

Coats were grabbed, hands shaken until he was finally alone. He knew he should be clearing away the remnants of the evening but he couldn't bring himself to move off the couch as a huge sense of anti-climax overwhelmed him.

Was that it?

He had his cell in his hand to call Vance and tell him the plan had failed when the doorbell rang.

When he opened the door Commander Grey stood there with a smug smile on his face.

"I think we need to have a little talk, Tony..."

* * *

Vance exited MTAC after an early morning tele-meeting with the American intelligence presence in Korea.

The Yard had all the appearance of a ghost town. Sunday being the one day a week that most agents had off unless there was a particularly hot case going on. He tended to take full advantage of a few hours of uninterrupted peace and quiet to try and clear his desk before the start of a new week, whilst his wife and children spent the time before lunch either visiting the cinema or skating rink.

As he walked back to his office from the break room, carrying a can of soda and a pack of vending machine crackers, he glanced down into the bullpens below. Special Agent Gibbs was at his desk, shuffling papers around. Leon smiled; he obviously wasn't the only person who took advantage of the peace and quiet of a Sunday to clear his desk.

Leon watched the agent for several minutes before he headed for his own office. He opened the crackers and nibbled. Half a can of soda later and he'd made his decision.

He scribbled quickly onto a piece of paper before he could change his mind, folding it in two as he exited his office and walked down the stairs into the bullpens.

Gibbs looked surprised to see him standing in front of his desk.

"Leon?" he questioned.

"Here." Leon tossed the paper down on the desk.

Gibbs opened the paper and saw the address and cell number he'd written down.

"Is this what I think it is?" Jethro removed his glasses and refolded the note.

Leon nodded.

Vance made to walk away but Gibbs stopped him.

"Why are you doing this, Leon? You were quite emphatic that this was a covert op, one that I wasn't to interfere in."

Leon paused. Revealing that he was concerned that the operation was becoming too much for DiNozzo would send Gibbs into overdrive. But there was no denying that Tony had sounded detached and downright depressed when they'd spoken the night before, and his stress levels would only get worse now that Grey had confronted him. Tony did need someone who could help him decompress and Jackie was right, he was failing dismally on that front, not that he'd tell Jethro that.

Leon leaned over the desk.

"Be discreet and if you blow DiNozzo's cover then I'll swear blind to the SecNav that I don't know how you got that information, are we clear?"

"What information?" Gibbs shoved the paper into his breast pocket. "Thank you, Leon."

Leon nodded and headed back to his office feeling lighter than he had for a while. Being directly responsible for an agent was something he was out of touch with and it wasn't as easy as it looked, especially when the agent was as closed mouthed as DiNozzo was.

Gibbs' desk was empty less than ten minutes later when Leon headed home and his car gone from its parking spot.

If he were a betting man he'd put money on the fact that Jethro was heading straight for Woodley Park.

**TBC**

**Reviews would be the cherry on the top of the cake! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the overwhelming response to this story. Love you chaps for the support.**

**And a huge thank you to Princess Fi for clearing this chapter up. She's a darling!**

**So, here's the next chapter...**

**Cheeks**

**xx**

* * *

Tony sat on the wall surrounding the terrace, his legs stretched out in front of him eating a bowl of Froot Loops. He took a gulp out of his mug of coffee and stared out over the park opposite the apartment block. The sunlight danced gently through the leaves of the trees and a group of children were playing baseball in the distance, using what looked like their coats to mark out a pitch. Excited shouts carried on the wind and made Tony wish he were charging around having fun without a care in the world like they seemed to be.

The sound of the doorbell broke through his reverie.

He paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth for a few seconds before he continued to eat.

The doorbell trilled again. Whoever was outside kept their finger pressed on the bell for long enough to set his teeth on edge.

He leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes.

This was all part of the plan.

Tony kept telling himself that.

He wasn't being a coward.

He wasn't hiding. He wasn't sick to death of having to immerse himself into the cesspit that was Grey's mind.

He wanted to be able to look at children again without seeing victims, without thinking that every family friend, bus driver or peewee baseball coach was a potential pervert ready to pounce.

The doorbell became quiet but his cell phone took up the mantle and started to vibrate in his pocket.

Jesus, couldn't whoever it was take the hint.

Tony cursed and threw his half-full bowl of cereal against one of the ugly stone urns that flanked the terrace. It shattered, sending shards of china and brightly colored corn hoops skittering across the marble floor. He didn't need to check the display; only two people had the number and it didn't matter if it was Grey or Vance. He really didn't want to speak to either right now but he had a really nasty feeling that it was the local neighborhood Pedo wanting to gloat over the previous night's revelations.

Tony stared at the mess on the floor as the one of the kids scored a homerun and yelled out a celebration.

The internal communication system buzzed. He sighed and reaching over, he pulled the handset off the wall. Tushar, the concierge, would give some excuse to the Commander if he asked.

Since moving in Tony had often gone down and talked to the Moroccan on the front desk, usually over a pizza. , He enjoyed the company; hearing about the man's family was a welcome distraction considering he had no other 'friends' right now apart from Vance and Grey.

"Hi, Tushar. What's up?"

"Tony, a man down here who is telling me he doing service on boiler. You should have been sending letter."

Tushar's mangled English managed to put a smile on his face.

"Okay, Tushar. Send him up." He huffed out a breath in relief that it hadn't been Grey at the door.

Tony pressed the button that remotely opened the front door and settled back on the wall with his coffee.

There was the clatter of a heavy toolbox being put down in the hall. He really hoped that the guy knew where the boiler was because he didn't have a clue; everything without a sense of modernity was expertly hidden away, it could be anywhere.

* * *

Gibbs stood silently and watched as Tony sat staring vacantly out to the horizon. He was clutching a coffee cup against his chest; there were definitely clear lines of tension on his face and stress radiated off him in waves.

He looked completely forlorn.

The opportunity to be able to observe Tony when his expressions and emotions were completely unguarded was rare and Gibbs took the time. Gibbs hadn't been blowing smoke out of his ass when he'd told DiNozzo Sr. that his son hid behind the mask of a clown. All most people saw was the easy smile and the juvenile behavior, but over the years Gibbs had learnt that there was a darker, sadder underbelly to DiNozzo, and he was seeing that now.

Whatever 'dance' SecNav and Vance had Tony performing for them this time, it didn't look like he was much enjoying it and Gibbs got a good sense of why Leon had caved and given this address.

DiNozzo wasn't coping.

"You know, you'll make one hell of a mess on the sidewalk if you fall off that wall, DiNozzo," he eventually said by way of greeting.

The warning almost had him doing just that. Tony jumped at the sound of Gibbs' voice but luckily fell off the wall onto the right side of the terrace.

The haunted look left Tony's face and the usual 'DiNozzo' mask was back as a big goofy grin appeared on his face.

Tony righted himself and put his cup down on the table. Before Gibbs could blink Tony hugged him tightly.

"Shit, it's good to see you, Boss…. _really, really_, good."

"You too, DiNozzo. Been way too quiet around the office. I'm actually managing to get some work out of Ziva and McGee for a change."

Gibbs chuckled and thumped Tony's back several times.

Tony stepped back and the grin grew bigger.

"See I knew you'd miss me Boss. Coffee?"

"Is the Pope Catholic, DiNozzo?" he joked and followed DiNozzo through to the kitchen.

Tony was more toned and muscular than the last time Gibbs had seen him. What had he been doing to up his fitness levels so quickly?

"So, how's everyone?" Tony asked.

Tony handed him a cup of coffee, and Gibbs sat down at the breakfast bar. He gave a brief synopsis of what had been going on at the yard in the past two months, but Tony wasn't really listening. Instead, Gibbs could practically hear the cogs whirring in DiNozzo's brain.

Tony heaved himself up onto the granite countertop.

"Look, Boss, if Vance finds out you'd been here…well, let's just say that he wouldn't hesitate in creating a new post for me in Siberia, and as much as I love Borscht I'd prefer not to be sent to the salt mines."

There it was.

"Don't worry about Vance, DiNozzo. He knows I'm here."

"He knows you're here?" Tony frowned and slid off the counter. "Huh, he practically threatened to knee cap me if I contacted any of you…so what changed?"

Gibbs took a gulp of his coffee,

"I think he grew tired of me in his office morning, noon and night…wore him down. But if it's any consolation he also threatened to knee-cap me of I blew your cover," he responded lightly rather than revealing that Vance was concerned about Tony - and now Gibbs could see why.

Tony pulled a chair out and sat opposite him. "The jumpsuit is a nice touch, Boss, very extra from a bad seventies porn film. Boom-chic-a-wow-wow. Of course you could pull it off more if you still had your moustache."

Gibbs shot DiNozzo a 'look' but there was no heat behind it.

He'd missed that brand of humor but along with the usual jocularity there was a nervousness surrounding Tony that was disturbing.

Tony did his best to distract Gibbs from it, babbling about all the gizmos in the apartment until he eventually ran out of steam.

"So, do you want to tell me why you weren't answering the door or your cell and why you went postal out there on that bowl of sugary crap you call breakfast?" Gibbs asked finally.

"I…uh…" Tony floundered. "You know me, trip over my own feet sometimes."

"Try again, DiNozzo," Gibbs looked up from his cup and stared straight at Tony, letting him know that excuses weren't going to cut it. "You look strung out. What's up?"

Tony stood, his chair scraping across the floor. He grabbed a cloth and started to wipe the already immaculate work surface.

"Tony?" Gibbs said softly.

Tony threw the dishcloth into the sink and turned around.

"Let me see…where to start?" Tony let out a mirthless laugh. "For the past seven weeks I've been undercover posing as a pedophile. I guess that's the answer to 'what's up'."

Gibbs tried not to let his shock show, but he soon knew that he had done a lousy job.

"Yeah, I think that was same expression I had on my face when the SecNav and Vance told me about the assignment." Tony folded his arms and tilted his head back until he was staring at the ceiling.

"Jesus, Tony," Gibbs whispered. He had immediately thought 'drug dealer' when he'd driven up to the expensive apartment - but this? No wonder Tony looked so brittle.

Seconds stretched into minutes before Tony spoke again.

"Boss, have you ever loathed your undercover self so much it almost hurts? I mean I know it's not real…. this isn't me. I'm not the person I'm pretending to be…. but I seriously, seriously hate even having to think…like…him. Hell, I've got images on my laptop that will make you eyes bleed, boss…just having them there makes me sick. Usually I immerse myself undercover and become who I'm supposed to be but this time that's not going to happen. No way. And it feels like the two personalities are fighting each other. I kind of feel like I'm getting a taste of how a schizophrenic must feel and it scares me…I think I'm going nuts... hating a fictional character I've made up. Does that make sense?" Tony's voice was quiet and unsure.

Gibbs was shocked and was still trying to think of a reply when the man in front of him switched. Tony stopped looking at the ceiling, seemed to mentally shake himself and marched over to the fridge, pulling out a beer.

DiNozzo was back.

The smile was there, the cocky self-assurance replacing the fragility in a blink of an eye.

"Do you want a beer?"

Without waiting for a response Tony cracked the top on two Budweiser's and set one down on the table.

"There's a game on, we could watch that…get some take out…there's this place that does Mongolian lamb that delivers or maybe you'd like Chinese…. the egg rolls are to die for…"

"Tony…take a breath and sit your ass down." Gibbs stopped the train of verbal diarrhea before it spiraled into endless movie quotes and date reminiscing.

DiNozzo wearily sat back on the chair he vacated and started to peel the label off his beer.

"Tell me about the op. Who're you after?"

Tony continued to peel.

"Uhh, not sure I'm supposed to do that, Boss. Siberia… remember."

"C'mon. What do you think I'm gonna do, take a front page ad out in the Washington Post?" Gibbs took a swig out of his beer. "Spill."

Tony heaved out a sigh but he eventually started to talk and Gibbs listened.

An hour later and Gibbs had almost had the full picture. but he could tell Tony had left something out, he could always tell when DiNozzo was being evasive. Gibbs wanted to punch Vance for putting his agent in this position, but he also understood fully why SecNav and the director had chosen DiNozzo. He had the right skills for the job and he could engage people like no one else.

That didn't make him Gibbs feel any better though.

Just because Tony had the requisite skills didn't automatically make him the right man for the job, as Vance probably now realized.

Some agents were like automatons, able to function with no or little emotion to get the job done, but that was not DiNozzo.

He'd tie himself up in knots trying to protect everybody at the best of times, but in a case like this he'd try too hard, over think everything - like he was doing now. Gibbs couldn't imagine getting into the mindset of a pervert but he suspected he'd be feeling the same level of disgust. The difference was he'd be able to separate the fact from the fiction and DiNozzo was clearly couldn't.

He was beating himself up over something he couldn't control. Tony DiMatteo and Tony DiNozzo were two very different animals but somehow Tony was having difficulties seeing that right now.

Something was missing though, something must have happened recently to make Vance change his mind like he had.

"So what happened last night?" Gibbs asked.

A pair of hazel eyes stared at him.

"What makes you think something happened?"

"Oh, maybe because you hurled your bowl of cereal against the wall or maybe because you are wound so tight I can feel you vibrating from here?"

"Anyone tell you that you should become an investigator, Boss? You're good."

"Cut the shit and quit stalling. What happened?" he pushed.

Tony eventually gave a resigned sigh.

"Last night I set Grey up. Left my laptop open on my bed…set the scene of a typical jerk off session." Tony covered the hitch of disgust in his voice by taking a gulp of his beer. "He's a nosey bastard and I knew he wouldn't be able to resist checking out what porn I'd been looking at. He looked and spent the rest of the evening smirking at me but then he left without confronting me. It would have been the smartest move not to say anything but I obviously underestimated the lure of one pervert finding another pervert to gloat with."

Tony got up and pulled another beer from the fridge. He twisted the top off and slumped back down in his chair.

"So he came back about ten minutes after everyone left. He was so damn smug. The look on his face as he confronted me, the things he said… like it was normal to find infants attractive. He said that they were asking for it and we were just giving them what they wanted. These are little girls…they are just little girls. How the hell can someone think like that?"

Gibbs could feel his gorge rising and he shut his eyes and swallowed hard.

The sound of breaking glass made his eyes fly open.

Shattered glass and frothing beer covered the table.

Tony was staring as a pool of blood collecting in his palm.

Gibbs was on his feet in an instant and he grabbed DiNozzo's injured hand by the wrist and pulled him over to the sink.

"Don't know my own strength." Tony said weakly.

"Uh huh." Gibbs responded as he turned on the cold faucet and forced Tony's hand under the running water. Blood turned the fashionable white porcelain sink red as the water swirled down the plughole. He wished he had his glasses on him as tried to peer at DiNozzo's hand to see if there was any glass in the cut.

"I think it's clean now," Tony said, reading his mind as pulled his hand away from the water and prodded the cut. Gibbs swatted his hand away and gently palpated the wound.

It looked deep to him, probably needed stitches, but sitting in a hospital waiting room for hours filling out forms was not what DiNozzo needed right now. He pulled some paper towels off a roll on the side and pressed down to mop up the still flowing blood.

"Move your fingers for me."

Tony dutifully wiggled his fingers.

"No lasting damage, Boss."

"You got a decent first aid kit in this fancy pants place?" Gibbs shut the tap off.

"Nope," Tony said succinctly and grabbed some more paper towels and wrapped them around his palm.

"Hold your hand up, I'll be back."

Tony nodded and propped his arm on the counter.

Gibbs jogged down to his car and got the first aid kit he kept in the trunk. What worried him was the lack drama. DiNozzo usually turned any injury into a Vaudeville act but not today.

The concierge craned his neck with interest as he passed but Gibbs ignored the man.

Tony was on the phone with his injured hand above his head when he entered the apartment again.

Gibbs caught the end of the conversation as he dumped his car keys on the side table.

"I'm okay, just cut my hand. The boiler guy is going to patch me up."

Tony shook his head as he put the phone down. The paper had been replaced by a tea towel and it was already glistening red.

"That was Tushar, the concierge. I think he thought you'd murdered me."

Gibbs indicated pointed to the leather couch.

"Sit."

Tony planted his ass down.

Gibbs pulled away the towel. The cut was still bleeding, but, Gibbs was pleased to see, somewhat more sluggishly than before.

"If I killed you I'd have a damn sight more blood on me than this," he commented quietly.

Gibbs opened his kit and pulled out a sealed packet. He tore it open with his teeth.

"You know that, but poor Tushar obviously isn't down with the messy side of murder," Tony chuckled softly.

Gibbs grinned and pressed a thick wad of dressing down hard on the wound.

"You still move your fingers, DiNozzo?"

Call him paranoid but it didn't hurt to ask again. It was DiNozzo's firing hand after all but Tony once again waved his fingers with no more than a slight wince.

Gibbs set about placing a neat line of steri-strips along Tony's palm.

"I don't think I've ever wanted to shot someone quite as much as I wanted to shoot Grey last night," Tony said quietly. "It's a good thing my gun was hidden underneath my mattress, Boss, because I think if I'd have been carrying I would have done it.".

Gibbs looked up in surprise. This wasn't something he'd ever expect Tony to admit.

"If you really wanted to kill him you didn't need your gun," Gibbs said simply and went back to closing the cut.

"But I wanted to." Tony argued.

"Yeah, and I can understand why, but you didn't. Don't beat yourself up over 'could haves', - they dont' count for shit, you know that, DiNozzo." He carefully opened another dressing. "So what happened next?".

"I denied it. Told him I didn't know what the hell he was talking about and told him to get the fuck out. Partly because that's how I figured I'd play it. I think anyone would expect that reaction but mainly because I just wanted him out before I totally lost it."

Tony pursed his lips and took a deep breath.

"Going to ring in sick at the gym next week. I'll avoid Grey for a few days. He'll not let it rest, the smug bastard was way too happy to share his disgusting insights with me. It was like he was proud or something, I think he wants to make me his protégé."A shudder ran through Tony.

God, this kept getting better and better. Gibbs was trying so hard to treat this like any other case because the last thing Tony needed right now was to see how angry this whole situation was making him. Tony didn't need him stomping and shouting. What Tony needed a little grounding. They were boss and subordinate talking right now and Gibbs was doing his best to keep it 'normal' or he suspected DiNozzo would clam up.

"Sounds about right, people like Grey will get off on talking about their fantasies," Gibbs kept his expression neutral but he could feel Tony tense at his words.

"I'm not sure they are just fantasies, Boss. All Intel points to Grey being an Internet predator but I'm not sure. If he hasn't already acted out his fantasies yet my gut's telling me it's just a matter of time."

"You tell Vance that?"

"Yeah, but without proof we both know I'm just pissing in the wind," Tony said with a huff of resignation.

Gibbs nodded as he wrapped a bandage around the dressing, winding it around and around.

"How's Vance been in general?" Gibbs asked.

Tony frowned.

"Actually he's been okay, kind of freaking me out actually. Not used to Vance treating me like a human. We'll be braiding each others hair next." Tony grinned then he grew serious again.

"Not sure how this is all going to play out, Boss. I'm just winging it from hereon in." Tony shrugged. "If I can get Grey to show me where he keeps his material or give up more names then that'll be enough to nail him."

"You could sell sand to Egypt, DiNozzo, that's what makes you such a damn good agent," Gibbs said proudly. "You'll find what you need and then you can get your ass back to the team where you're needed."

Gibbs secured the end of the bandage with tape.

Tony gave a shy smile and his ears turned pink.

Gibbs found it one of DiNozzo's endearing qualities, that he constantly strived for compliments yet when you actually gave him one he metaphorically shuffled his feet like an embarrassed five-year-old.

Again the Tony's mood shifted at lightning speed and he sat up straight, seemed more confident and together. If that is what a simple compliment did then Gibbs figured he should do it more often.

"It shouldn't be too much longer now and as much as this operation sucks at least I don't have to worry about getting whacked if my cover is blown, unlike most of the undercover cases I've worked. Gotta look on the bright side, huh." Tony shrugged.

"That's something at least. All done," Gibbs smiled as he crumpled up all the wrappings and zipped up the first aid kit.

Tony flexed his hand. There was no denying it, Gibbs thought, DiNozzo still looked drained.

"Thanks, Boss and yeah, before you ask again, I can _still_ move all my fingers," Tony declared.

Enough of talking about Grey and the case. What Tony needed now was not a 'boss' but a friend.

Gibbs got up off the floor, his knees crunching.

"So, you said something about take out and the game?"

DiNozzo smiled.

"Now that sounds like a plan, Boss."

* * *

Gibbs nodded at the concierge as he passed. If the guy thought that seven hours was a little excessive to service a boiler he didn't say.

He slung his toolbox into the back of his car and headed home.

Gibbs had hoped that seeing DiNozzo would set his mind at rest but it hadn't.

It really hadn't.

And what nagged at his gut was the fact it would only be getting worse for DiNozzo as the weeks went on. Having to listen to Grey as he spouted his filth would test Tony to the limits.

Gibbs didn't think he'd be able to do it.

In fact he knew he couldn't do it. Grey would already be in hospital if he'd been given this assignment.

So it had been a good move on Vance's part to send Tony instead of him.

But that didn't help DiNozzo much.

Gibbs sighed and flipped open his cell.

He had the bare bones from Tony but what he needed now was the meat and gravy.

The cell the other end rang twice before it answered.

"Fornell, I need a favor …."

**TBC**

**Cyber Chocolate cupcakes to all who review. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N : Hello! Sorry it's been a while but if it's any consolation then this chapter is longer than War and Peace! ;)**

**Thanks to the rather fabulous Iantalia for beta-ing this for me. She's a darling.**

**Hope you enjoy the direction this is going in...but you are all going to be slightly peeved at the way I ended the chapter. Sorry, couldn't help myself.**

**Yours**

**Cheeky**

**xx**

* * *

Chapter 6

"Here," Fornell walked down the stairs of the basement and tossed an office internal communication envelope down on the workbench. "All the info on the joint op last year with Norfolk as you requested, plus any Intel we have on Commander Charles Grey."

Gibb picked up the envelope and unwound the string, sliding the pages out.

"You gonna tell me why you couldn't get one of your many minions to get that info for you?" Fornell asked.

"Operation Ruby Slipper was an FBI op," Gibbs said simply and started reading.

"But Grey is Navy," Fornell pointed out. "So why all the interest now? He done something we need to know about?"

"Not that I know of," Gibbs looked up from the file.

"I'm not interested in playing twenty questions with you, Jethro. Spill." Fornell griped.

Gibbs had already made a decision to tell the FBI agent everything but it didn't do to go too easy on the man. Tobias expected the runaround; it was all part of the game they played.

"The SecNav ordered a covert op. An NCIS agent has been undercover for the past two months posing as a pedophile to set up a honey trap for Grey," Gibbs revealed.

Gibbs watched a myriad of expressions cross Fornell's face as the implications of the assignment sunk in.

"Ouch. Can't imagine there was a big fight for that assignment." Fornell eventually choked out as he scrunched up his face in distaste. "So, why weren't we read in on it?"

Gibbs raised his eyebrow. Typical, the Febs always wanted a piece of the action even though they weren't exactly known for being free when it came to sharing.

"After the fuck up that was the last op, are you kidding?" Gibbs scoffed. "The less people who know about this then its less likely someone tips off Grey again like last time. Only three people know about it, the SecNav, Vance and the agent."

"And yet you also know about it. What gives?" Fornell asked, clearly intrigued.

Gibbs leaned back against the bench and fixed Fornell with a steady gaze.

"DiNozzo is the agent undercover."

"_DiNutso?_" Fornell's mouth all but fell open. "Damn."

"Yeah. My sentiments exactly." Gibbs growled.

Fornell wasn't usually lost for words but he shook his head and took a few minutes to absorb before he spoke again.

"DiNutso's about as from removed from a Pedo that anyone could get but I guess that's the idea. If they all looked like the Child Catcher then that would make our jobs easier, right. You say he's been under for two months, why are you only digging around now?" Fornell frowned.

"Only found out about it yesterday," Gibbs replied simply. Leaving it at that.

"So you thought you'd poke your nose into the operation even though you weren't invited?" Fornell stated blandly.

"I'm not going to sit around with my thumb up my ass whilst my agent is trying to cope with what's probably the hardest assignment of his life," Gibbs spat angrily. " You'd better believe I'm going to see if I can help DiNozzo close this op as quickly as possible."

Fornell held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Hey, it wasn't a criticism, Jethro, just wanted to get a handle on where you were going with this."

Fornell sat down on the bench; he pulled his hipflask out of his jacket pocket and unscrewed the top.

"So, how else can I help? I take it your searches are being monitored so you'll need our databases on this one," Fornell took a swig from the contents of the flask.

"And they say the FBI have no brains," Gibbs mocked lightly, grinning to take the edge off.

"I'll ignore that barb, Jethro as it's always a pleasure to get one over on the director of a rival agency." Fornell grinned broadly and he held up the flask in a mock salute.

* * *

_Week 8_

After three days off 'sick' Tony eventually slunk back to work fully expecting, at the very least, a warning from his employers considering he'd only been on the job for two months, instead he found himself being fussed over by Marcel, the manager.

_He looked pale._

_Had he been taking his vitamins?_

_Had he been to the doctor?_

_Did he need more time off?_

Okay, so he wasn't stupid enough to think that all the concern wasn't partly due to the fact that the man was trying to get into his pants but there was also been a genuine underlying worry there that Tony found strangely endearing.

He assured Marcel that his 'ailment' had been simple case of stomach flu and he was over it and slipped back into the routine of the gym like he'd never been away. First he spent a few hours in his office revising exercise programs for some of his clients before he eventually made his way out onto the floor.

Several of the patrons cheerfully greeted him and he worked the room and chatted to each as they exercised. He worked through the clients he had booked for that day but he found himself continually looking over towards the door as the day wore on.

Grey always came into the gym on Thursdays but it was looking increasingly like he wouldn't be showing up.

Perhaps he'd miscalculated in his plan, maybe become too focused on making sure that Grey didn't smell a rat in the long run that he'd blown it?

Could it be that his overly fervent denials regarding 'DiMatteo's' viewing choices had made the commander come to regret speaking as openly as he had about his own desires.

Dammit, he was usually spot-on in anticipating all possible scenarios whilst undercover and usually he had back-up plans in place but he was struggling with this one, struggling with understanding Grey.

Obviously the commander had too much to lose, his career, his wife and children and that was probably enough to make the man take a step back now he'd had time to think about it.

How the hell did he know what was the norm when it came to a man who thought that kids were fair game?

As the day wore on Tony argued with himself, alternating between kicking himself for obviously handling the situation wrong and telling himself he'd done the right thing in acting like he had.

Tony couldn't help it all his usual confidence had vanished with this one.

The five o'clock crowd started to trickle in and the noise levels rose as voices competed with the upbeat music that pumped in through high-tec speakers mounted on the walls. Tony was on the last client of the day, a rich but vacuous Washington housewife. She might have been pretty at one time but now after one too many procedures her face was stretched so tight it looked like an elephant had taken her roughly from behind, it wasn't a good look but hey, if she was happy. She was waffling on about sacking her gardener because the topiary was off but Tony wasn't really listening, he was too busy thinking that Vance was going to kill him if he'd fucked up and sent Grey underground again.

Tony could feel his already high anxiety levels skyrocketing and he made the decision to call Gibbs again when his shift finished because that always seemed to calm him, the normality of talking about the everyday goings on at the yard helped more than he could say. Gibbs was being pretty good when it came to his needy phone calls but Tony tried not to be a pain in the ass because it was one thing saying 'call whenever you need to' but that didn't mean his boss wanted him on the line 24/7.

Tony was just contemplating asking Gibbs over for pizza when the doors opened and Grey strode into the gym.

The woman yelped as he involuntarily gripped her ankles too tightly as he grounded her whilst she did her stomach crunches.

"Sorry," He muttered and she went back to twittering on about her gardening woes.

The commander put his towel and bottle water down on the floor and he started up the running machine. Tony acted like he hadn't seen and continued to rally his client as she did a continued her rep of stomach crunches but the little hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention signaling that Grey was still looking his way.

Relief raced through his body as his heart rate galloped.

It looked like he didn't need to tell Vance he'd screwed up thank God.

Twenty minutes later and Tony was done for the day, he walked the length of the gym, quickly passing Grey as he went. Tony acted skittish, not that it was much of an act to be honest. He kept his head down and continued to walk ignoring everything around him. Once in his office Tony sat down behind his desk and rubbed a hand over his face and waited.

It didn't take long.

Grey opened the door after one perfunctory knock, not waiting to be invited. The commander seemed to slither into the room like a viper ready to strike.

"Hey, Tony. Haven't seen you around the last few days, you take a few days vacation?" Grey gave a sly chuckle. "Or were you just avoiding me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tony stared hard at Grey.

"Oh Tony, are you still playing that game?" Grey sat down in the chair opposite and picked up a stress ball, he started to squeeze. "As I said on Saturday, I'm not your enemy but I applaud your need to be discreet. There's a witch-hunt going on for people like us and we need to be careful around those who don't understand but I'm cool with it, we need to stick together."

'People like us.'

Tony bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from launching over the desk and grabbing Grey by the front of the shirt and yelling that they were nothing alike.

Tony gave a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry. I guess you freaked me out. Just not used to people… knowing…. Trust me it doesn't usually end well." Tony responded dully.

Grey nodded as he squeezed a sly smile played on his lips.

"I think I know now why Daddy froze you out of the family business. I bet he thinks nothing of banging a mistress behind your mother's back or fleecing the taxman or anyone else he comes across but he takes the moral high ground just because you're a little different, huh?"

Tony nodded slowly. He hadn't worked that into his fictional back-story but he could work with that.

"You got it in one, called me sick and tried to have me admitted to a hospital so they could 'cure' me when he found some photos on my PC. He disinherited me when I refused." Tony acted as if he were angry at the injustice of it all but it was the only emotion he could portray at the moment, anger that Vance had put him in this position, anger at the fact that he was having to pretend to understand this shit. "I also got beaten to an inch of my life by my fraternity brothers when they discovered what chat rooms I'd been inhabiting. You can understand I've been a little more careful since then. It's not something you share readily is it? Call me paranoid but I like my life right now and don't want to have to move on again. And it's going to take a while to trust you though, been stung before, people pretend to be your friend then you find out they're a cop or a fucking liberal vigilante who doesn't understand," Tony pursed his lips and frowned.

"Yeah, been I've been there too, Tony," Grey said eventually and Tony would bet a whole heap of cash that the commander was thinking about Operation Ruby Slipper. "Learnt the hard way too, got a little hideaway now that no one knows about, keep my two lives separate but as I said…I'm not the enemy," Grey smiled warmly. "I understand, Tony, we're not doing anything wrong really and a friendship like ours can be, shall we say, mutually beneficial. Look out for each other and lets face it, it's always great to find out a friend shares the same interests isn't it?"

Tony nodded slowly as if he were thinking about what Grey had said but in reality he was trying to stop the rising nausea within. The guy was like an insidious cancer that was the only way he could describe him.

"The way you freaked out on me was hilarious. Hell, I thought you were going to piss yourself when I called you on the photos on your laptop, you looked like you were going to cry."

"Fuck you, Grey." He forced himself to laugh as if it were all a joke to him now the air had been cleared between them. Grey joined in.

They both grew silent then Grey put down the stress ball and got up.

"Got to make tracks now, Sarah has roped us into another of her fundraisers tonight." Grey grimaced. "You free on Friday? We're having a few friends over, I'm going to fire up the grill, knock a few longnecks back."

Tony stood and walked him over to the door.

"Yeah, yeah sounds good."

Grey paused slowly looked Tony up and down and the atmosphere changed in an instant.

All of Grey's previous good humor seemed to vanish and Tony suddenly found himself being pushed up hard against the wall next to the door. His immediate reaction was to fight back and it took every ounce of control not to land Grey on his ass as he was trained to do, instead he forced himself to stand passively as Grey pushed an arm tight against his windpipe.

"I like you, Tony but if you _ever_ so much as touch my kids ….I will kill you, do you understand?" The commander spat out and his face was so close that Tony could smell the peppermint gum the guy was chewing.

The shock Tony felt was real. He shook his head fervently in denial.

"No…no…you don't… shit on your… own doorstep… learnt that the hard way."

Tony could barely speak as the pressure on his larynx and the lack of oxygen to his lungs was making itself known but he vehemently made his displeasure known as if the thought had never crossed his mind because it hadn't.

Grey tilted his head and looked at him with interest.

'Really, Anthony, I think you may have just revealed a little more than you intended there but that's definitely a conversation for another day." Grey gave a sick smile and as quickly as he'd attacked he released his hold.

Tony moved away and glared at Grey but the man appeared unconcerned and just watched him rub his neck.

"What the hell? You damn near choked me." Tony coughed out.

"Just making sure you know the score, Tony." Grey shrugged. "No hard feelings."

Tony kept silent but nodded as the commander moved towards the door.

"See you Friday." He said cheerfully as if the last three minutes hadn't happened.

And on that note Grey was gone.

Tony released the breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding as he shut the door and sat back down behind his desk. He was shaking hard and he looked at his hands in wonder as they trembled and fought back the urge to laugh. He clenched his hands into fists and winced as the cut on his hand made itself know again.

Jesus, you couldn't have made that up.

Tony put his head in his hands and lost the battle with the rising hysteria and laughed not that it was remotely funny.

What the hell was going on in Grey's mind to react so angrily towards someone he thought had been grooming his children yet he obviously had no such compunction where it came to someone else's.

Tony always knew the world was a fucked up place but that just put a big, fat bow on top of just how messed up it really was.

At least he had the first real evidence that Grey was more dangerous than they thought but Tony needed hard proof. It was still just Grey's word against his right now and any decent lawyer worth his salt would cry coercion quicker than a whore could disrobe but it was a step closer…one more step closer to him being able to return to the yard and forget he ever heard the name of Commander Charles Grey.

Tony laid his head down on the desk and tried to calm down before he drove back to the apartment. If he got behind the wheel of a car now he suspected that he'd probably end up causing an accident and he really didn't need that added to his conscience.

Tony had to admit that he felt more positive now he had a clear agenda to work towards.

If he found Grey's 'hideaway' then he'd bet he'd find all the evidence he needed.

As he left his office, he plastered his 'game face' on giving a wave to Marcel and the receptionist on the front desk as he passed.

In the sanctity of the Aston he called Vance. Leon listened and even gave him a speech on how impressed he was with his work. Usually that would have made a hell of difference but Tony just felt numb.

Yes, numb was definitely a good word for it.

The fact that Grey had reacted the way he had should have acted as further validation of his undercover skills but it really didn't make him feel proud as it usually would.

Convincing someone that you made a plausible pedophile was not something Tony could see himself ever, ever bragging about.

* * *

Gibbs was drowning under a sea of paperwork when his cell rang.

He flipped it open and peered at the display.

DiNozzo.

He looked across at the bullpen to where the rest of the team was finishing up for the day.

"DiNozzo," He uttered the greeting quietly.

The pause before Tony spoke set his alarm bells ringing.

"Hey, Boss, I know it's a school night and all but I was wondering if you wanted to meet up for a beer or maybe even a dozen?" The tone was flat even though DiNozzo seemed to be doing his best to inject a little life into it.

"I take it you've spoken with Grey again?" Gibbs turned around to face the office divide behind his desk to give a little more privacy to the call.

"Oh, what makes you think that? Wait, is it the fact that I want get wasted to wipe out yet more sick words of wisdom from our friendly local pedophile or the fact that right now I really don't think there is enough bleach in the world to make me feel clean again.

Tony gave a high, weak laugh that sounded way to close to hysteria for his liking.

"Seriously, Boss. I really need a little normality right now."

Gibbs swung around in his chair and looked up towards the mezzanine level. He saw Vance walk out of one of the meeting rooms and enter MTAC.

"My house at eight, that okay, DiNozzo, I'll get a couple of crates of that piss water you call beer in," Gibbs said quietly. "And I've got some pretty nasty industrial bleach in the basement that might just do the trick if ya need it."

Gibbs gripped his phone tightly as he waited for Tony to respond.

Eventually DiNozzo laughed, it still sounded too tight but he did seem calmer.

"Thanks, Boss, sounds good, if you throw in one of your steaks and some slaw, I may have to marry you."

"Goodbye, DiNozzo." Gibbs huffed in amusement before he ended the call.

He sat back in his chair and looked across at DiNozzo's desk.

A blow up doll with a photo of Tony taped over the face and had taken up residence a day after DiNozzo had left on his assignment much to the amusement of the other agents on the floor.

Over the weeks people had mysteriously added to it. The effigy of Tony now wore a lurid nylon shirt in orange and green that wouldn't have looked out of place in the seventies, a loud plaid jacket and a satin tie emblazoned with Santa Claus finished the ensemble. Yesterday a yellow fright wig had appeared and a panama hat, which he suspected, was an addition from Ducky.

DiNozzo would freak at his doppelgangers abysmal fashion sense.

Gibbs gave a little grin; he had to admit that his old jacket looked pretty damn good on the doll. Just call it payback for all the Sears comments throughout the years.

He stuffed his cell in his pocket and then slammed a file down on his desk causing Ziva and McGee to look his way in alarm.

"Go home, people," He ordered.

They both blinked at the clock, noting the still early hour but neither of them argued and they scrabbled for their bags and coats as they simultaneously shut down their PC's.

"Um, see you tomorrow." McGee called.

"Nope…I want you both at my house tonight at twenty-one-hundred hours," He added and they both paused, dumbstruck, bags in hand.

Gibbs figured that would at least give Tony an hour free and clear to talk if he needed to and to have a few beers before everyone else showed up.

"What?" McGee looked perplexed, terrified even. "Your house?"

"You got a problem coming to my house, McGee?" Gibbs enquired making Tim stutter.

"No, yes…yes. I, I mean I can't, I have a date," McGee sounded flustered.

"Well cancel, McGee, my house at nine," Gibbs smiled a steely smile that broached no argument as he got up from his desk. "You got a date too, Ziva?"

"No, I can be there," Ziva frowned. "But why do we have to be at your house?"

"Just be there," Gibbs called behind him as he headed for the elevator, knowing full well that both agents were frantically mouthing to each other behind his back. "And you'll find out."

He smiled a genuine smile as he suspected that McGee and Ziva would both be on the phone to Abby before the elevator doors closed behind him. They were so predictable.

Call him sadistic but he deliberately chose to stop at autopsy first to give Abby time to work herself into an absolute frenzy with unanswered questions before he showed up.

* * *

Ducky parked his Morgan in the street outside and gestured for Jimmy to unbuckle. The poor boy looked a tad nervous but then getting a summons from Jethro wasn't an everyday occurrence, especially when that summons was an invite to his house.

"Chop, chop or we shall be late," Ducky chivied his assistant along. This was all really very intriguing and he was as in the dark as the rest of them.

"We're early. The others haven't gone in yet," Palmer responded and nodded to where Ziva, McGee and Abigail stood around a beauty of a car that was parked in Jethro's driveway.

"Oh my! An absolute triumph of British engineering," Ducky couldn't help but exclaim as he approached the car.

"I don't think Aston Martin was in British hands anymore, Ford bought it in the mid nineties, then I'm pretty sure a consortium bought it from them…" Palmer stated with authority.

Ducky glared and Jimmy stumbled to a halt.

"The design is clearly purely British, my dear boy, I don't care who may own it now!" Ducky clucked his tongue at Jimmy. He then turned his gaze to the rest of the group. "Why haven't you gone in yet, don't tell me you are all dragging your heels."

"Of course we're dragging our heels!" McGee answered. "Why would Gibbs ask us all here?"

Abby let out a wail.

"Oh my God, do you think that Gibbs is going through a midlife crisis, hence the totally inappropriate babe magnet car," she flailed her arms. "He's going to retire for real this time and that's why he's invited us all here. He's going to tell us he leaving, first Tony disappears and now Gibbs is going!"

"Abby, I really don't think Gibbs is going to retire, if he were going to do so he would not feel the need to sweet coat the news," Ziva scoffed.

"Sugar coat," Palmer muttered, still clearly scared of Ziva.

"Whatever! Sugar coat, sweet coat!" Ziva said exasperated. "I really don't see Gibbs owning an expensive car like this."

"So whose is it?" McGee frowned and ran his hand lovingly over the hood.

Ducky shook his head and chuckled.

"Once you solve one riddle everything else falls into place," he looked around the group but they all stared at him. "And you call yourselves investigators! I can think of only one person who would choose to drive a car that played such a pivotal role in Casino Royal."

"Agent DiNozzo!" Jimmy excitedly shouted proudly as if he'd just won a pop quiz set by the teacher.

Ducky lifted his hat and bowed.

"I do believe you are correct Mr. Palmer."

Abby blinked several times and let out a squeal that was probably high pitched enough to summon bats.

She ran towards the house. The others hurried up the path after her.

By the time Ducky entered the den Anthony had a lap full of Abigail and the rest of the team had surrounded him and were all talking at once.

Ducky watched the scene with interest.

Anthony was openly laughing and already regaining everyone with tales of a life undercover as an International playboy whilst Abigail squirmed in his lap and excitedly petted him as if she hadn't seen him in a year. He'd apparently been spending his weeks wining and dining the country's most eligible debutantes. He gloated over the 'sweet' assignment and poked fun at McGee over being the one Vance chose. Jimmy beamed as if he were just pleased to be included in the impromptu reunion.

As heartwarming as the scene was Ducky saw beyond the easygoing banter and frowned.

Anthony looked tense. There was a tightness of the jaw and dullness in the eye that he had witnessed a few times before, the most notable example had been when Caitlin had passed but it had also manifested itself when Jethro had retired and before the team left for Somalia to bring Ziva home.

"Hey, Duck, take those for you?"

Gibbs appeared and motioned to take his hat and coat.

Ducky handed his outerwear over and followed Jethro into the kitchen.

Gibbs draped the coat over one of the wooden chairs that surrounded the table and balanced the hat on top.

"I've got beer or a bottle of red or I can make you a tea, still got some Earl Grey somewhere?" Jethro made for the refrigerator and pulled out a six-pack.

"A beer would be most refreshing, thank you." Ducky said as took a beer and requested a glass.

Gibbs grabbed one from the cupboard and handed it over. Ducky sat down at the table and carefully tilting the glass he poured.

"You know, one of the advantages of reaching such a great age is the ability to detect many an untruth," Ducky mused.

"That right, Duck." Gibb's jaw clenched at his words.

Whatever was going on wore hard on his friends face.

"I'm guessing Anthony is spinning quite a tale in there, isn't he?"

Gibbs sighed and sat down opposite.

"I'm worried about him, Duck, this assignment Vance has got him on is tying him up in knots and it's not right he hasn't got proper back up."

Ducky smiled.

"Oh I totally disagree, Jethro, I think he has splendid back up right now. You are a good man and I think this is exactly what Anthony needed."

Gibbs snorted.

"Not sure the director will see it that way."

Ducky took a sip of his beer then let a mischievous smile play on his lips.

"He'll certainly not be hearing about this little gathering from any of us, I can assure you."

Ducky took another sip and wiped his lip free of foam.

"I take it you can't tell me what has you so worried about the boy?"

"Not my place to say, Duck but it's as bad as it gets. I don't think I could do what he's doing right now. I'm proud of him, any other agent would have probably walked away by now but DiNozzo's not a quitter." Gibbs sighed. "I wouldn't normally say this, an assignment is an assignment and you do the job you're paid to do no matter what but I think maybe he should walk away from this one."

"Have you told him what you've just said to me, that he can throw in the towel if he needs too and no one will think any less of him?" Ducky asked.

"Yup, told him tonight but he refused. He's in too deep now and it's gotten personal. I think even Leon is worried but he has the SecNav breathing down his neck on this and he needs a result but I think if DiNozzo pushed then Leon would back him." Gibbs shook his head in defeat.

"I'm guessing whatever it is; it goes against Anthony's moral code. I've come to learn that he has a problem on that front somewhat."

Gibbs gave a bitter laugh.

"Oh, it should go against everyone's moral code, Duck but there are some sick SOB's out there and Vance has DiNozzo swimming in the deep end with the sharks. Just hope he doesn't end up drowning."

Ducky's heart sank. Jethro didn't tend to share his concerns for his agents; he internalized any concern and acted as if everything was controllable even if it wasn't.

"Anthony will be fine, he is more resilient than we give him credit for. Once he's back in the fold I'm sure he'll bounce back," Ducky said with more confidence than he felt.

Gibbs nodded slowly as the sound of laughter sounded from the den.

"C'mon, we'd better join the others or DiNozzo will get paranoid thinking we are talking about him."

Ducky stood.

"But we were indeed talking about him."

"Yeah but he doesn't need to know that, Duck."

Gibbs grabbed the beers off the side and headed towards the noise.

Ducky picked up his beer.

"Oh Anthony, what have you got yourself into now?" he said quietly to the empty kitchen.

* * *

Tony deliberately turned up late to the commander's house on the Friday evening.

He figured Grey would be either too drunk or too busy with the other guests to corner him for any great amount of time. Thankfully there appeared to be more people invited to the shindig than he'd thought. The street outside was lined with cars and he had trouble finding a space but the fact that the house appeared to be packed would work well for him.

Tony squared his shoulders and knocked on the door.

Dexter, Grey's son had obviously been press-ganged into doing door duty and he didn't look happy about it. The kid grunted at Tony's greeting and waved him in the direction of the kitchen. It seemed that everyone was either huddled in the garden wearing coats and scarves or were hanging around the kitchen and dining room.

Sarah caught his eye and hurried over to greet him with a fierce hug. She handed him a large Long Island Iced Tea off a table loaded with bottles, jugs filled with exotic colored punches and glasses. He took a grateful gulp.

"Tony! I didn't think you were going to show."

"Wouldn't miss seeing you, Sarah, you know that," He released her and stepped back, holding Grey's wife at arms length. "You look stunning as always."

"Oh you old flatterer!" She swatted his arm then frantically craned her neck as if looking for someone.

"Less of the old, please." Tony sighed dramatically.

A slightly plump but attractive blond suddenly appeared and Tony inwardly groaned. Sarah delighted in showcasing him for her single friends delectation.

The blond had obviously had a few drinks and seemed to forget he was standing there and actually had functioning eyes because she gave him an obvious once over and nodded her approval to Sarah. Tony supposed that was something, as getting the thumbs down so openly would be a little crushing.

"Ingrid, I don't think you've met Tony DiMatteo." Sarah smiled excitedly as she did the introductions. "Tony, this is Ingrid Hohenstein, I've known her for just forever and be warned I've told her all about you."

"All lies I can assure you." Tony switched on the charm even though his heart really wasn't in it. He politely shook Ingrid's hand.

"So, Sarah tells me you're a personal trainer and a bit of a property mogul." Ingrid stared openly at his arms and looked like she wanted to paw him.

"Yup, got a few houses and apartments in Georgetown and working at the gym keeps me in check," Tony said conversationally. "And you?"

"I'm an interior designer, keeps me in check too, I get to indulge my passion to shop but using other people's money. It's a win-win situation." She pouted prettily and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Sorry, will you both excuse me? I must go and check up on Charles and Daddy. You know what men are like, show them some fire and they go all caveman, they are probably turning the steaks to charcoal as we speak."

Sarah floated away looking clearly pleased with herself. Tony tuned Ingrid out as she started to yak about the cost of wallpaper and carpets.

So the Senator was here. He hadn't met the man but knew him by reputation. He was respected on the hill and was a big advocate for family values so the allegations about his son-in-law must have been a huge embarrassment. No wonder he'd gone out of his way to bury the allegations.

Through the sunroom window he could see Grey standing by the outdoor grill drinking beer and flipping burgers. He was wearing a comedy apron over his coat, not caring that it was probably approaching zero out there but the large gas patio heater they stood under probably helped. Senator Reinhart seemed to be holding court to the several people who watched Grey cook. For a man in his late sixties he was wearing well, he certainly had the natural magnetism of a statesman.

Grey turned his head and saw him watching. The commander lifted the beer he was drinking by way of greeting and winked.

With that one gesture all the good mojo he'd gained from kicking back with the team suddenly vanished.

Taking this guy down would be such a fucking pleasure.

Forty minutes of feigned interest on his part and obvious flirting on Ingrid's, Tony excused himself citing a trip to the bathroom.

Tony made his way towards Grey's study at the front of the house, he cocked his head to make sure that no one was around before he opened the door and crept inside. The filing cabinet was his first point of call. He opened the draws and scanned the neat rows of files within.

He'd read and re-read the original Operation Ruby slipper/NCIS investigation on Grey and but he'd found nothing about a second property but from what Grey had said there was definitely one somewhere.

On his third drawer he hit the jackpot.

Tony spread out the file and scanned the pages. There were several tradesmen's invoices relating to an address in West Virginia, all paid for in cash. One was for repairs to a roof another was for the removal of waste from a cesspit. This had to be it.

Tony got his cell out and took photos of the invoices before carefully replacing the file.

He was halfway to the door when he heard footsteps.

Shit, just great.

He frantically looked around for a hiding place or an alternative way out but it was too late, whoever it was out there already had their hand on the doorknob.

The door opened and all he could do was stand in the center of the room, frantically hoping that he could somehow talk his way out of the situation.

A blond head appeared around the door.

"I've been looking all over for you?" Ingrid pouted then she frowned at him. "What are you doing in here?"

Tony licked his lips as a lie formed about a sudden migraine and the need for quiet. He was just about to open his mouth when he caught the sound of yet more voices and footsteps.

Un-fucking-believable, suddenly it was like Grand Central Station in this part of the house.

The unmistakable baritone of Grey and an unidentified person filtered past the music playing in the kitchen and they seemed to be heading towards the study.

Tony leaped into action - literally.

Ingrid's eyes widened as he pushed her up against the wall and crowded her with his body.

"Was waiting for you. I was hoping you'd come and find me," He growled out huskily.

She gave a squeak of surprise but thankfully she didn't start to scream the house down with cries of 'assault' at the suddenness of his advances, instead she rather enthusiastically grabbed his ass and squeezed.

"I _knew_ it! I could sense a spark between us immediately!" Ingrid said breathlessly. "My horoscope said today was going to be my lucky day, so I knew I had to come tonight…what star sign are you?"

Oh boy, just what he needed, a fluffy bunny woman who relied on the cosmos for dating tips?

The voices stopped outside, he wound his fingers through her hair and thrust his tongue into her mouth to shut her up.

The way he figured it Grey would either pass by and would be none the wiser but if the commander did discover them in his study, he'd just assume that they'd stumbled into the room for a little 'privacy.

Tony did feel a pang of guilt that he was using Ingrid purely to maintain his cover; she seemed nice enough even though she wasn't exactly his type.

What had started out as a light diversionary tactic on his part quickly escalated out of his control. He may have instigated the tryst but she had certainly taken it over. Before he could process, she was scrabbling with his belt and pulling down his zipper.

They seemed to be skipping second and third base and going straight for the home run in about thirty seconds flat.

Not what he'd been anticipating but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth because, damn, she was frisky.

When the door eventually opened his pants were already pooled around his ankles and Ingrid was kneeling in front of him, her head in his hands.

"Whoa!" Grey exclaimed and snorted out an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry, Buddy."

The guy next to Grey just grinned.

Tony acted shocked at the interruption and gave Grey a contrite look but if Ingrid noticed that they had an audience she didn't show it or break her rhythm.

The two of them backed out and the door quickly closed. Tony heard raucous laughter outside as they walked away.

He shut his eyes and released the breath he was holding, allowing himself to relax.

Tony leaned his head back against the wall and stared at ceiling.

The things he did for his job.

Not that he'd be telling Vance about this little escapade.

* * *

Late Sunday afternoon saw Tony driving to Red Jacket, West Virginia. It might prove to be a wild goose chase. Hell, for all he knew an octogenarian Granny Grey lived there spending her days making jams and jellies but it was all he had to work on right now.

His gut told him he was onto something and the thought that maybe, just maybe he'd find the evidence there that would nail Grey's ass to the wall once and for all.

As Tony idled at a set of lights he rubbed his hands together and blew on them to try and get the blood flowing.

He was turning into a freaking Popsicle.

The cold snap was definitely showing no signs of abating and the further East he drove the colder it got. Snow had started to flutter down at an alarming rate and was starting to settle on the road, not ideal driving conditions but it could be worse. Tony reached down and checked that the heater was actually turned to max, not that it seemed to be doing much good for all the amount of warmth coming out of the vents. Lack of heat aside, the rental car he'd picked up that morning was a necessary as the Aston was definitely not the kind of car you took on a road trip to the boonies. As it was the wipers were working overtime but he still had difficulties seeing where the hell he was going.

He passed a Mom and Pop diner outside Red Jacket and decided to turn the car around and stop.

The place was deserted, wasn't the type of weather that people voluntarily ventured out in and the waitress greeted him like a visiting Lord. He asked for coffee then added a hot peach cobbler to the order as Mabel, the ancient looking waitress, looked disappointed by his initial order. Whist he waited he pulled his cell out and glanced at the display. Great, no signal. Why the hell anyone would choose to live in a place that didn't have the decency to put a cell tower nearby?

Mabel returned with his cobbler and coffee. He wasn't expecting much but the greasy looking guy outback sure could cook. His dessert was sweet, light and fragrant with cinnamon and the whipped cream was the real stuff and not that aerosol shit.

Maybe the boonies weren't so bad after all.

He quickly finished his food and watched the snow falling outside as he drained the last of his coffee. He left Mabel a good tip because she looked like she should have retired years ago and got back on the road.

Tony eventually found the property after a lot of cursing and driving around the same area for a good twenty minutes. The houses were all spread out and set back from the road far enough to be a pain in the ass when it came to checking numbers. He circled around, following a dirt track so he was round the back of the house. He parked of the way just in case. It didn't do to advertise if you wanted to do a little breaking and entering even if the place was secluded.

Tony got out and zipped up his coat to the neck and turned his collar up against the biting wind and flurrying snow. He had a good hour before it started to get dark but he grabbed his flashlight out of the glove compartment and stuffed it in his pocket before setting off.

It was a big plot and the house backed onto dense woodland. He clambered over a fallen tree and made his way across the overgrown garden, glad that he had worn his Dockers as he trod through the settling snow.

He stopped and stared at the house.

It was a substantial wood frame property, painted the ubiquitous white. A veranda wrapped around the ground floor, all it needed was a picket fence and it would win the award of cliché of the year. His gut told him that it was empty, had that feel about the place but it didn't do to assume so he kept to the tree line.

He was halfway to the house when something caught his eye in the undergrowth.

A flash of red under a tangle of brambles looked stark against the smattering of snow.

Tony used his foot to kick away the spiky tendrils of the bramble and looked again.

He wasn't sure why it piqued his interest as much as it did but his training told him to investigate.

Tony crouched down and pulled one of his gloves off. It felt like cotton. He wiped the snow away from the area and quickly discovered that the surface soil was frozen solid.

Great, nothing was ever easy.

He took out his switchblade and dug. It didn't take long to loosen the dirt even though his fingers were turning numb.

Eventually he dug the object free and shook the dirt from it.

Tony stared.

He held out a large rag doll complete with braids and rosy cheeks and although the doll was dirty and damp, it wasn't rotted as he expected a fabric doll to be if it had been buried for any great length of time.

Little girls didn't bury their beloved dolls, if it had been an old, mangy GI Joe then he wouldn't feel quite so apprehensive, he remembered setting fire to his own re-enacting a scene from The Six Million Dollar Man as a kid. His toys had purely been a means to an end for his imagination.

Tony stared down at the patch of soil, but considering the reason he was here he felt a tight apprehension settling in his gut.

With great care he lowered himself down an inch from the hole he'd dug and inhaled.

Tony sat back on his heels and shut his eyes.

The smell seeping from the soil was cloying even in the chill of the day.

There was no mistaking the nauseating smell of decay and he'd become attuned to it since he'd been working in law enforcement.

He patted down his jacket, relief washed over him when he found several latex gloves shoved in his inside pocket. Obviously the last time he'd worn this coat had been at a crime scene and it was habit to grab a handful of gloves out of the van and stuff them in an available pocket.

Maybe his imagination was getting away with him. Grey was warping his mind and all he was dealing with was a lost doll and a dead squirrel stashed by a dog or maybe 'fluffy' had been totaled by a car but as Gibbs was fond of saying, He don't believe in coincidences.

Tony looked towards the house before he picked up his knife again and started to gently scrape the soil away.

It didn't take long for him to find out that he wasn't dealing with a dead squirrel or family cat.

"Fuck," He cursed under his breath.

With a shaking hand Tony pulled out his cell as he stared at an atrophied foot still encased in a small scuffed Mary-Jane shoe, he didn't need to dig any further to know what he'd find.

Still no signal.

Tony shut his eyes to blink away the snow that was falling heavily now and breathed deeply.

When he opened them again the rag doll was almost covered in a layer of white.

Tony gently covered up the exposed foot to try and preserve as much of the integrity of the scene as much as he could. He picked up the rag doll and headed back towards his car. He could wrap the doll in the plastic car seat protectors from the car, wasn't idea but it would have to do. He had no evidence bags; there was nothing else he could do. It wasn't like he'd been planning on finding a corpse when he'd set off a couple of hours ago.

The light was starting to fade. He needed to get to a phone, screw finding the evidence that Grey was a pedophile.

Try explaining why there was a dead child buried in the garden of your house.

The bastard was going away for a very, very long time and it would be a pleasure to see the look on Grey's face when he arrested the fucker.

Tony shivered as he walked. To be honest he was so focused on getting to a phone that he probably wouldn't have noticed a light being flicked on inside the house if the light outside hadn't been fading so fast.

He quickly moved into the cover of the trees that lined the garden and turned.

There was definitely someone inside the house now. The downstairs was illuminated brightly. Tony cursed again at the lack of a working phone and made a split decision.

He checked his sidearm and made his way towards the house.

This case just kept getting better and better.

**TBC**

**Hope you enjoyed. xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here I am again. Work has been a bit of a bitch, so writing has taken a backseat as all I want to do when I get home is crash with a stiff drink! ;)**

**Thanks to the wonderful Scousemuz for beta-ing this chapter. She is an absolute star and one of the nicest people you could wish to meet. *big snogs to her***

**Also big snogs to all of you who reviewed. I think I responded to all your comments but if I didn't then my apologies and an extra snog with tongues to you!**

**Love Cheeks**

**xx**

* * *

Tony crept towards the house, keeping low and to the shadows.

It wasn't easy; the snow was falling more heavily, obscuring his vision now and his boots kept slipping on the icy ground. The failing light certainly wasn't helping any either. Neither was the fact that he had no back up, but he told himself he was just going to quickly check out the house, then he'd split and find a damn phone that worked.

Tony ignored the nagging voice in his head telling him that of course things were never that simple when he was involved, and continued on.

He wiped his face again and shook the snow from his hair as he silently cursed the weather.

As he stepped into the back porch of the house Tony realized that he was still holding the damn rag doll.

He looked down.

The doll was beyond wet now, snow clung to the fabric and he'd inadvertently been dragging it through the bushes.

Tony placed the doll under the bench on the porch, out of the weather, but he knew that any forensic integrity was as good as gone. Abby would no doubt enjoy kicking his ass around her lab for his stupidity but he couldn't bring himself to care right now.

The doll was small potatoes in the grand scheme of things.

This shitty assignment had well and truly gone south the moment he'd dug up a child on what should have been a routine fact finding mission.

With a sense of trepidation he crouched by one of the large picture windows. On a silent count of three he lifted his head to peer in, hoping that whoever was inside hadn't chosen that exact moment to look out at the falling snow. Thankfully the albatross that seemed to be permanently circling above must have been momentarily distracted and he got away with it.

Grey stood in the centre of the room and he was clearly speaking to someone. Whoever it was, was just out of sight and Tony cursed again. He shuffled over to one of the other windows to get a better view of the room.

What he saw made his heart race, and everything slid into place at an alarming rate like a head on collision you couldn't avoid.

Senator Reinhart stood by the door and he was holding a young girl by the hand; the hungry look was worse than anything he'd seen on Grey's face.

Tony wasn't an expert on kids but he was good at reading people and he could see that the girl didn't want to be there. She looked bemused, not quite terrified but getting there. Her dark, almond shaped eyes were darting around the room as if she were looking for a way to escape. She stood as far away from Reinhart as the length of her arm would allow.

Tony felt so stupid; he'd allowed himself to be blindsided by public perception. The man was a renowned benefactor, a man of the people. Even the media loved Senator Reinhart and that was a rare thing for a politician. Washington had watched as he nursed his wife though a very public battle with lung cancer and applauded when he had become a huge campaigner for awareness of the disease when she had finally succumbed to it.

He hadn't been the only one who'd been fooled. The FBI had obviously dropped the ball too, or maybe Reinhart had deep pockets and any sordid whispers throughout the years vanished the good old-fashioned way.

Nothing had indicated that he and Grey were even close beyond the family connection. Hell, the scuttlebutt on the hill was that they barely tolerated each other and only socialized for the sake of Sarah.

What Tony did know was that the assignment had suddenly become a hot potato; dead children and high profile politicians tended to make people nervous and the SecNav would have a cow when this came out. Tony didn't care about the fallout, all he focused on now was that there was a little girl in a house with two men who probably didn't want to play pat-a-cake with her, and his original plan to go find a phone was completely defunct now because there was no way he was going to leave her alone with those two perverts.

He ducked and moved around to the side of the house until he came to the back door. He grabbed the handle and twisted. The door was locked but he could tell by the way the panel moved against his hand that it was flimsy and wouldn't take much to force. Unfortunately using his shoulder to open the door would involve too much noise, so that was out. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his lock picks. In less than thirty seconds he had the door open which was no mean feat, considering his hands felt like twin slabs of ice.

Pulling out his gun he slowly made his way towards the voices.

Holding his breath, he listened.

"Stay there, Honey and read your book." Reinhart's voice carried. "I need a drink, it's damn cold out there."

Footsteps.

Crap.

It sounded as if they were heading his way.

Tony ducked into what appeared to be a pantry, keeping the door ajar but it appeared they were heading for what was probably a den.

Tony waited for a minute before he opened the door and made for the hall.

He looked into the room to the left. The girl was sitting on the edge of the couch, an unopened book clutched in her hands. She was staring at the floor.

To the right he could hear Reinhart and Grey and the clink of glass on bottle.

"Where did you get her from?"

Jesus, Grey sounded like he was talking about a purchase of a new wallet or tie.

Tony's hand gripped his gun tighter.

"She's the daughter of my new maid. Mother's an illegal immigrant. I told her I'd send her ass straight back to the Philippines if she didn't co-operate and social services would take the kid, scared her shitless. She's supporting her family back home. Trust me, she won't talk."

Reinhart spoke adroitly making Tony think that blackmail really wasn't a new thing to him.

He didn't know why he was surprised by the fact that a politicians persona didn't quite match up to the reality, he'd lived in Washington long enough to know that only a thin veneer of respectability gilded the hill. If it wasn't drugs, it was sex and if it wasn't sex it was extortion but Reinhart went straight to the top of the shit list and it would be a pleasure to take him there.

Tony was frantically planning his next move, because although he had his Sig, he didn't have any cuffs on him as he hadn't exactly been planning on arresting anyone and with no cell coverage he was screwed unless this house had a landline and he hadn't seen any tell-tell lines radiating away from the house.

Rope, he needed rope or something he could use to secure the bastards whilst he went and called in the local LEO's and Vance.

Those were his last thoughts as a loud bang reverberated around the hall when something connected with the back of his head. A searing pain made his whole skull wish he'd been paying more attention.

Tony could only blink in wonder as his knees folded under him but try as he might to move his arms forward to break his fall he couldn't and he found himself staring at all the dust-bunnies hiding underneath the sideboard.

Then a pair of feet in a fug-ugly pair of brogues obscured all the forgotten crud hugging the floorboards, leaving Tony struggling to think what the hell had just happened.

There had been a third person, Tony, you moron - and you'd made the rookie mistake of not checking the house.

He'd stupidly assumed that the only people in the house were the ones he could see and now he was lying on the floor with scrambled brains because of his fucking stupidity.

Tony found he was unable to move except for the weird jerking movement that his right hand was making in front of his face and although he was having trouble stringing two coherent thoughts together he just knew that the involuntary twitch probably wasn't a good sign.

Neither was the fact that Tony could feel a rapid and hot, sticky dampness trickling down the back of his head.

A baseball bat bounced on the floor next to Tony making him wince and the world seemed to tilt as he was roughly manhandled onto his back. His stomach lurched and he swallowed hard as someone went through his pockets.

Why had he chosen today of all days to put his badge in his jacket? Once that was found Tony knew he was as good as dead.

He'd end up three foot under, next to the dead child under the brambles and that would be that. They'd never find him. He'd just vanish and become fertilizer for the weeds. He was really regretting not telling Vance what he'd been planning on doing today, but Leon had been at a family wedding this weekend and he hadn't wanted to disturb him. Tony had figured telling Vance about the possible lead on the house could wait until he made his weekly report. No biggie. It wasn't like checking out a house was high risk.

Yeah, right.

He was screwed.

Tony hadn't realized his eyes weren't open but they must have shut at some point because where there should have been ceiling, there was only a red haze as the light from the overhead fixtures penetrated through his closed eyelids.

Someone, probably the fucker who had gone all Babe Ruth on his skull, grabbed his ankles and started to drag him across the floor.

He wanted to kick out, struggle, but somehow he couldn't get his body to co-operate.

He couldn't even speak and he panicked as he slid across the floor, as what little brainpower he had left told him that it was going to hurt.

As his head bounced across the polished wooden floorboards the pain was worse than anything he'd ever experienced before, more than it should have been, and Tony had a sudden image of leaving a trail of bone and brain as he went.

Maybe he'd have to have one of those metal plates inserted.

Damn, that would cause havoc with the metal detectors at work. Why was he thinking about work? He wasn't going back there as he was destined to be food for the worms.

He kind of felt like he'd smoked a lot of weed because he was losing time somewhere but DiNozzo's did not pass out, phase out maybe but not pass out.

He stayed as still as possible.

They were arguing about him.

He heard the odd word.

Someone said his name.

The word 'Fed' was spat out several times as was a whole lot of cursing.

Everything was kind of foggy and disjointed but he frantically tried to stay awake because underneath the noise of Grey and Reinhart arguing was the sound of a little girl crying quietly.

* * *

Leon Vance checked his cell again.

He'd gotten used to DiNozzo's calls now, he actually enjoyed speaking to the man - not that he'd ever expected to hear himself saying that, but so far today there had been no contact. He wouldn't have worried so much had it been another night, but Sunday was the day Tony had elected to give for his official report to be passed onto the Secretary of the Navy.

Eight every Sunday like clockwork his cell rang, Tony had never been a minute late.

Except today.

A glance at the clock made his gut clench.

Ten in the evening, and not only had Tony not rung but the agent's cell was going directly to voicemail.

If it turned out that DiNozzo were out on the town tomcatting around he would personally take great pleasure in castrating him.

Two months ago he would have thought nothing of maligning his agent's dedication to the job but not now. That didn't mean he suddenly could shake of the misconceptions he had and part of him was actively praying that DiNozzo _was_ out drinking.

That was far better than the alternative.

He'd seen a very different side of DiNozzo and the fact that he was two hours late reporting made him very anxious indeed.

"He still hasn't called?" His wife asked.

Leon shook his head.

"No."

She leaned down and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"I'm sure he's okay, maybe he's just lost track of time," she tried to reassure but he could see that she wasn't convinced. Even a kiss on his temple didn't help.

He untangled himself and stood up. Grabbing his keys from the side he kissed her cheek.

"Sorry, Honey. I'm going to the yard for a while, don't wait up."

"Okay, call me when you find Agent DiNozzo or I won't be able to get to sleep," she told him quietly.

That's what he loved about his wife. She didn't even know Tony but if he worried then she would worry. It had always been the same and that's why they worked so well together. They were a partnership in every way.

He kissed her on the lips.

"If you don't hear from me by twelve then go to bed and I'll speak to you in the morning. Promise?"

She nodded.

"Promise."

He was behind his desk less than thirty minutes later. One more unanswered call to Tony and he swung into action.

He may be the director but he wasn't just a useless figurehead as some thought.

Leon powered up his PC and set to work tracing Tony's cellphone.

The last location he had for DiNozzo was at a cell tower outside a town in West Virginia before he lost him. Either his phone was switched off or had been damaged in some way.

He chose to believe the first explanation for now.

Leon then accessed Tony's alias' credit card records. Apart from the large expenditure on the Aston, DiNozzo hadn't taken advantage of having a company credit card, unlike some agents, and had kept his spending pretty low. What did jump out at him was a charge for a hire car dated that morning.

He pulled up the records for the Hire Company, cross-referenced employee's names with home numbers and started dialing.

Within thirty minutes he had the registration number, make and model of the car DiNozzo had leased care of the fourth very disgruntled clerk he'd woken up.

He then posted an urgent BOLO on the car, across all agencies and with the local law enforcement in both Washington and Virginia.

Find the car and hopefully Tony wouldn't be too far behind.

But now he was left to ponder why Tony had hired a car and driven to Virginia.

Something must have happened. Something between their last conversation and today. Something that had led DiNozzo to drive across country.

But what?

He picked up the phone and called the team lead on call and told him to get his ass into the office.

He had to find DiNozzo before Gibbs found out he was missing or there would be hell to pay.

* * *

They had left the room. Tony could tell that much.

They were probably running damage limitation over several stiff drinks or maybe they'd just gone for the shovels.

Either way they'd gone and that was good enough for him.

Tony rolled over and slowly got to his knees. Pain lanced and the room tilted at an alarming rate, but he ground down on his teeth and waited for the rollercoaster ride he was on to stop.

When the world righted itself again he tentatively lifted his right hand to check the back of his head.

He palpated as gently as he could, but he jerked his hand away instinctively the moment his fingers made contact with his skull, and hissed. The back of his head felt kind of spongy and squishy and although he was no doctor, he surmised that it was generally not what a human skull should feel like.

Tony quickly replaced his hand back on the floor to stop himself from face planting the rug as the dizziness returned.

Dammit. He didn't have time for this. Grey and Co had been stupid enough to leave him alone and he was wasting the golden opportunity by being a wuss. Suck it up, DiNozzo, he thought as he frantically battled with the nausea and light-headedness he felt. Someone using your head for batting practice was no excuse to dally.

Gritting his teeth he turned his head and scanned the room.

Thank God.

He could still salvage something from this major fuck up of an op.

The little girl was crouching in the corner, staring at him with big terrified eyes. He wasn't remotely surprised, seeing that he was covered in blood and crawling around the floor like an infant.

On the count of three he stood.

Well, it was an approximation of standing, more actual swaying and holding onto the back of the couch for grim death than standing but he was upright.

The girl's previously quiet sobs increased in volume now he was upright and more of a danger.

"Shhhh, you gotta be quiet, Sweetheart. I'm going to get you out of here." He whispered.

She cowered further into the wall. Why should she believe him? He was just another threat to her, but he didn't have time to reassure her that he wasn't going to hurt her.

Tony made his way over to the patio doors, fumbling through his pockets as he went.

Shit. They'd taken his gun, his I.D and his car keys.

And now he was closer he saw there was no key in the patio door. He turned the handle just in case; of course he found it was locked. Although he still had his lock picks in his pocket, he knew there was no point in even attempting to use them at the moment as his hands were shaking like he had palsy; and the way his eyesight was so blurred he'd have trouble picking out Angelina Jolie in a line-up of quarterbacks right now.

Think.

But his brain felt as thick and slow as molasses and inspiration was thin on the ground. There was only one option as far as he could see. There was certainly no time for any finesse or stealth. He had to get the girl out of the house as soon as possible, after that he'd have to wing it.

Tony grabbed one of the hard backed wooden chairs that flanked the bookcase and lurched unsteadily towards the door on legs that felt like Jell-O. As quietly as he could he shoved it hard under the handle to block the door, in the hopes of maybe buying a few extra minutes, wincing at the noise as the wood scraped across the floor.

He then grabbed the other chair and moved towards the patio doors; he raised it high and paused. He could hear Grey and Co still arguing in another part of the house.

He wished he'd had more time to talk to the girl, tell her what he was planning but he didn't, and he couldn't worry about that now.

Tony braced his legs and swung the chair against the doors with all his might.

The glass shattered in a cascade of noise.

Tony grabbed the girl.

She screamed and immediately started to struggle, but he held her close to his body in a vice like grip.

Shouts and the sound of someone starting to pound on the door told him that his time was up.

It was now or never.

Tony struggled to keep a hold as he wrapped his oversized, padded jacket around the little girl to protect her from what he was about to do.

Someone was kicking the wood panels now and it wouldn't be long before they forced the door open.

Pumped up high on adrenaline he ducked his head and ran full tilt through the broken glass.

He used what little energy he had left to sprint as fast as he could towards the tree line. It was incredible really, what a human body could do. Inside he'd barely been able to stand unaided, but now sheer willpower and momentum propelled him forward even though he couldn't see squat. He landed on his knees several times as he slipped on the snow and ice but each time his body complied when he made it scramble up to continue on.

Once in the woods he pressed on.

Ignoring the tree branches and thorns that snagged his face, he only concentrated on trying to get as much distance from the house as he possibly could before his body finally gave up, and he knew it would soon. It was getting harder and harder to stand each time he fell, harder to hold onto the girl as she struggled, and his head was pounding like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

Tony could hear voices behind, knew that they were following right on his heel, and the panic started to build as once more his legs gave out and he fell down hard.

He hadn't done enough. Tony felt utterly defeated because he couldn't physically do any more. There was no way he could protect her, the shape he was in.

He could hear that they were getting nearer.

His only hope was to use the darkness to his advantage and stay hidden but the girl was hysterical and he had to shut her up or they'd both end up dead.

He pulled her struggling body as far as he could into a thicket of shrubs and although he hated having to do it, as the girl was already terrified, he covered her mouth firmly with his hand.

"Shhh, shhhhh. Please, you've got to be quiet, I'm trying to help you," he whispered, an ominous slur in his speech that would have worried him more if he didn't have more pressing things to think about.

She bit down hard on the pad of his palm and he had to stop himself from crying out and pulling his hand away. Why should she believe him? He was just another man who was manhandling her.

"I'm a policeman," he pleaded.

She stopped biting down at his declaration and her struggling eased a little.

"I promise I'm not going to hurt you but we've got to hide or those bad men will find us and hurt us." He whispered urgently. "Do you understand? I'm a policeman and I promise I'm going to take you back to your mom but we've got to be quiet, not make a sound. Okay?"

After what seemed like an age he felt, rather than saw her nod slowly.

"I'm going to take my hand away now because I know you're a brave girl who knows that she's got to keep quiet if she wants to see her mom again."

Great. He made that sound like a threat but he wasn't exactly good with kids. Tony risked it and took his hand away fully expecting her to start screaming again but she didn't.

"Good girl," he said.

He could hear her ragged breathing but she stayed silent.

Tony could feel her shivering violently next to him. A part of that was probably down to fear but the intense cold was definitely going to be a problem. She was wearing jeans and a sweater. Perfectly adequate for indoors but it was probably close to minus zero outside now.

Tony awkwardly and as quietly as possible pulled his jacket off and wrapped it around the girl. She snuggled into it and he pulled it tight around her and eased the zipper up. That would have to do for now.

They sat in silence and listened.

He could hear someone crashing through the undergrowth a little way off.

The girl seemed to hear it too and she tensed.

Tony scooted them further into the shrubs and tried to cover them and their hiding spot as best as he could but as he shifted them backwards his head connected with a branch and he groaned.

The pain he already felt in his head flared tenfold and he found himself sliding sideways, onto the girl as his battle not to pass out finally ended.

**TBC**

**Cherry pie to all who review, if you don't like pie then a virtual chocolate torte will be sent instead. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry, I've been sooo darn busy that I have been a bit crap when it comes to responding to reviews and for that I apologize! **

***hugs you all* **

**Thanks for your kind words, encouragement and general awesomeness! **

**A huge big thank you to Scousemuz once again for being a super beta! **

**Big snogs to all again. (and for the few who asked 'snog' is English slang for a kiss. :)**

**Cheeks**

**xx**

* * *

Chapter 8

Gibbs jabbed the elevator button hard; immediately he poked it again as he took his ire and worry out on the cold stainless steel. When the car didn't appear quickly enough for him, he turned on his heel and made for the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time in his haste. He strode past the bullpens with a fixed sense of purpose, face forward, looking neither left nor right, ignoring the anxious looks on the agent's faces as he passed their desks.

It was two in the morning yet the office was already thrumming with activity.

There had always been an unwritten code at NCIS, but this went beyond that. Word always managed to spread no matter what the time of day or night when one of their own went off radar, but DiNozzo would have been astounded at just how many agents had come in to see what they could do to help.

Gibbs all but ran up to the mezzanine level and straight into the director's office. It seemed to have taken an age to get dressed and make his way to the yard although in reality he'd probably broken his own record; but every minute counted. Since Leon's call he'd been consumed with a feeling of dread.

He knew that DiNozzo wouldn't miss a deadline, especially one with Vance unless there was a very good reason, and Gibbs knew the only reason would be because he couldn't.

And that wasn't good anyway you dressed it up.

Gibbs barely had the office door open before he spoke.

"Any news?"

Vance looked rattled and didn't answer straight away; the long, static pause rang warning bells in Gibbs' head.

"DiNozzo's hire car was found ten minutes ago burned out on a dirt track in Delbarton, West Virginia." Leon answered.

Gibbs remembered another time and another burned out car. The smell of cooked flesh still nauseated him and the intense feeling of loss he'd felt as he'd stared at the charred corpse sitting inside the twisted metal, thinking it was Tony, still gave him nightmares.

Not again. Please, he didn't think he could go through that again.

"They find…" The words got stuck in his throat but he forced himself to ask the question with his heart beating a wild tattoo in his chest. "They find a body?"

"No, thank God, DiNozzo wasn't in the car, Jethro." Vance was obviously stressed. Losing an agent on your watch was never an easy thing and the director was definitely feeling it.

Gibbs nodded as relief flooded his veins briefly but it quickly vanished. If someone had torched Tony's car then there was no doubt he was in trouble now.

"A helo is on its way to pick us up and take us to the scene. We need to find out what the hell he was doing down there."

"Nothing in his notes?"

Vance sighed.

"DiNozzo hasn't called in for a few days so something must have come to light and he decided to check it out, but there's nothing on his laptop. I went to his apartment myself. Ripped the damn place apart but found nothing."

Gibbs pursed his lips. DiNozzo took his undercover assignments seriously and there would be a detailed dossier somewhere but it would be hidden away from any prying eyes. DiNozzo could be damn sneaky when he wanted. Gibbs knew he'd probably find it given time but time was one thing he didn't have.

"There's nothing in the files I've read that connects Grey to Virginia," Gibbs stated.

Leon arched a brow and stared at him but chose not to say anything as to how he'd got his hands on the files. Now really wasn't the time for a pissing contest and thankfully the director realized that.

Gibbs snapped his cell open.

"McGee and Ziva can re-check DiNozzo's apartment whilst we're in the air. They know him and the way his mind works. DiNozzo's a devious bastard when he wants to be and he's hidden a disk or stick do-dad somewhere. Once we find that we'll know where he was heading."

"Good idea." Vance started to gather his papers.

Gibbs hit speed dial.

After the sound of rustling of sheets, and a yawn, a sleepy McGee eventually answered.

"Uh…Boss. We got a case?"

"DiNozzo's gone MIA, I need you to wake Ziva and go to his apartment, and find where the bonehead has hidden his notes."

There were a few seconds of silence as McGee processed the information, then he seemed to swing into action.

"On it, Boss. Uhh, there's more to this op than Tony made out, isn't there? He was just spinning a tale to us to stop us from worrying."

"Ya think, McGee," Gibbs sighed. "The director will forward all the case notes to you."

Vance scrubbed a hand over his face. Gibbs was guessing that SecNav wanted to keep a lid on this in case DiNozzo's disappearance had nothing to do with Grey but he didn't believe in coincidences and neither did Leon obviously as he made a snap decision.

"I'll send a zip file to McGee's Blackberry ASAP." Vance nodded wearily, he signaled that they had to leave and Gibbs outlined the case briefly as they walked through the yard to the helo pad, finally giving the address to McGee as the agent got dressed and made his way to his car.

Above the sound of the helo landing, Gibbs managed to bellow to the agent to discreetly check out Grey's movements for the last 24 hours.

Again Vance didn't countermand his orders; instead he pretended that he hadn't heard. Good, because the SecNav could go and boil his head if he thought that his assignment was more important than finding DiNozzo.

Gibbs ducked his head underneath the blades and climbed into the helicopter. He buckled in and leaned his head back, willing the pilot to get to Virginia as quickly as possible.

* * *

Cold.

He was so damn cold. He was shivering like he'd spent the night in a deep freeze.

Why was that?

Tony rolled over and grabbed for the covers to pull over his body.

His hand connected with dirt and leaves.

Dorothy definitely wasn't in Kansas any more, Toto.

Tony opened his eyes and sat up in shock.

He quickly wished he hadn't when a parade of little drummer boys started to beat in time to their march on his skull. He groaned and shut his eyes as he tried to remember what had happened.

Shit, the girl.

He opened his eyes again and peered into the inky blackness. Eventually a scared face came into focus.

"Hey," He said softly. "You okay?"

She was shivering, violently.

"I thought you were d…dead," Her voice hitched but apart from that she seemed way too calm, he wasn't sure that was a good thing.

Could be shock or hypothermia setting in.

"Nope, just napping," he whispered back as he tentatively touched the back of his head again. He gritted his teeth; he really should stop doing that. "Have they gone?"

She nodded.

"They came back twice but they didn't find us, I kept really still."

"You'd make a great cop." He tried to shuffle into a more comfortable position; his back spasmed like a bitch.

He was well over six foot, and having to curl up was not good for his spine. She watched him silently as he stretched.

"They're going to kill us, aren't they," she eventually said.

He kept silent for a moment then he spoke. It sounded so wrong coming out of someone so young, especially as she seemed so resigned.

"Nope, not if I can help it, sweetheart."

"You really are a policeman, aren't you? I heard them talking, they're really, really mad at you."

"Yeah, I am and I think we need to get out of here before we both turn into popsicles. You up for that?"

"Are you really going to take me back to my mom?" She looked him straight in the eyes.

Tony felt like she was staring into his soul her gaze was so intent.

"I'm going to my very best to get you back to your mom and I never go back on a promise." He said honestly.

With her long dark hair and wide luminous eyes he had a sudden image that this is what Abby probably looked a lot like when she was as a little girl.

"Pinky swear," he said spontaneously and held his hand out, little finger raised.

She looked at him as if he was mad but then a slow smile spread across her face and she linked her finger in his. He returned her smile.

"Promise?" she asked again.

"Promise."

He shifted his legs again. Great… now he was getting cramp to go with the killer headache.

"Can you hear them now, Dollface?" he whispered.

She tilted and then shook her head.

It was too much to hope that Grey and Co had given up but for now they weren't near and that was good enough for him. They couldn't stay where they were for much longer or they would both freeze to death. He crawled out of their hidey-hole and signaled for the little girl to do the same.

She scrambled out and sat on her haunches, pulling her knees up to her chin, clearly waiting for him to come up with a plan. He didn't actually have one but she didn't need to know that. Right now he could only think about trying to cope with the perpetual dizziness he couldn't shake.

"I'm cold." She spoke in a matter of fact voice with no hint of a whine.

Even wearing his coat she was clearly freezing. She was so slim, without an ounce of fat on her body; she didn't have reserves like he did.

"C'mon. Let's get you into something warmer."

Tony quickly shrugged off the thick sweater he was wearing.

Jesus, without it the icy wind cut through straight to his bones. He ignored the voice in his head telling him that he wouldn't last long in this weather running around in just a tee-shirt, even if it was thermal, and put his faith in the insulating powers of pizza cheese and grease.

He helped her with the coat when he realized that her hands were shaking so much she couldn't work the zipper.

"I'm Tony, and what's your name pretty lady?" He bunched up the wool and shoved it over her head, messing up her hair. She automatically lifted her arms in a move that echoed a little girl who was used to being helped to get dressed. In a weird way it actually spoke of trust and he felt humbled. His sweater reached way past her knees and would at least help to protect her from the elements.

"Imee," she whispered. "I'm five and a half."

"Well, Imee, I'm a federal agent, do you know what that is?"

She paused.

"Fox Mulder?"

Tony chuckled. He wrapped her up in his coat again and zipped it up. It had a thin hood, it wasn't much but it was better than nothing. Tony pulled it over her head and secured the toggles up tight so it fit as snugly as it could around her small head.

"Yeah, just like ol' Spooky." Okay, so he wasn't FBI but he didn't think Imee would appreciate a lecture on the differences between federal agencies right now. "So I'll need a partner, are you up to being my Scully?"

She paused again, and then she nodded shyly.

"Great, because I'll need your help."

This wasn't just about building a rapport with the little girl. The way his head was buzzing he couldn't hear shit and his vision wasn't exactly crisp either. He rooted through his coat pockets and pulled out some more latex gloves and his flashlight. He turned it onto low, so there was just a golden glow radiating from the end.

"You're bleeding," Imee stated, her voice wobbling as if she was going to start crying again.

Tony wiped his hand over his face and neck. His skin felt sticky and scratchy in the way only drying blood produced. Head wounds always bled like a bitch.

He tried to believe that it looked worse than it was, but he'd been hit on the head enough times to know when it was an injury that went beyond a simple concussion. This was one of those times, tingling arms and legs and an increasing difficulty in keeping track of his thoughts were only a few of the worrying symptoms that told him the baseball bat had probably done more than give him a killer headache.

Of course Imee didn't need to know he was already getting shit scared by all the possibilities whizzing around his mind. His brain could be swelling as each minute passed or maybe a cheeky little blood clot was forming, ready to render him paralyzed at any second.

Paranoia was a fun trait to have when you were trapped in a dark wood with three guys trying to kill you.

Instead he gave her a bright smile and reassured her.

"I'm okay. Nothing to worry about."

"Not there…" Imee pointed. "There."

He followed her finger and moved the flashlight beam downwards.

Shit.

There was a rip in the denim jeans on his calf, the light picked up the dark wetness as the tear in his leg still bled lazily. He couldn't really feel a thing other than a faint stinging sensation but he was so fucking cold that someone could have removed his foot and he didn't think he'd feel it. He shut his eyes and tried to figure out how he'd managed to injure his leg. He gave up quickly. What the hell did it matter in the grand scheme of things right now?

"Awww, it's just a scratch, Imee." Tony smiled tightly.

She wrinkled her nose in disbelief and considering the left leg of his jeans was dark with blood she was probably right but she was still young enough to believe that an adult knew best. Tony watched Imee as she bunched the sleeves of his jacket around her hands and wrapped her arms close against her body.

He gave a sigh. If he was feeling like he was in a deep freeze then the poor little mite would be feeling it tenfold.

"Hey, Sweet-cheeks, put your hands out for me."

Imee's hands were mottled an ominous purple-black. Tony rubbed them between his own hands and brought them up to his mouth, and huffed his breath hard onto the cold skin to try and get her circulation moving again. He quickly layered several pairs of the latex gloves over her hands before putting his thick wool gloves over the top. Like everything else she was wearing of his they were way too big, but if it stopped her getting frostbite then who cared that she looked like she'd been playing in the dress up box.

"Better?" he asked.

"But you have no gloves or coat now." She blinked up at him.

"I don't feel the cold," he lied and hoped she left it at that. She didn't.

"But you're shivering bad and your lips are going a funny color."

Kids. Said it like it was.

"I'm as warm as toast, Honey."

"But…."

"Okay, we've got to move," he interrupted quietly as he switched the torch off. "Now as my new partner your first assignment is to keep your ears and eyes open for the bad men. Can you do that for me?"

Tony couldn't believe he was using a five and a half year old girl to watch his back; he probably had more faith in her than he should given her age. But Imee had already proved she had more bravery in her little finger than the average green probie new to the field. Already all she'd been through today would have turned most adults into gibbering wrecks, but this little girl was proving resilient.

"Okay," she said earnestly, her dark eyes serious and grave.

"Good girl." He patted her shoulder.

Tony stood slowly.

Instantly, he knew he was in trouble.

He'd been lulled into a false sense of security whilst sitting down.

Hey, a little knock to the ol' noggin was nothing to worry about; Gibbs slapped him harder on a daily basis. All the other stuff was pure hypochondria.

Before he even got all the way up he stumbled and grabbed onto a nearby tree. His vision faded fast, black spots danced in front of his eyes and his legs wouldn't stop fucking shaking.

This really wasn't good. As he clung to the trunk of the tree he quickly assessed that he wouldn't be walking anywhere anytime soon.

He panted through the pain, his breath ghosting the darkness as his warm air hit the cold.

"Tony."

A little voice broke through the blood pounding in his ears.

"Tony!" Imee sounded panicked, scared.

He lifted his head from where it rested against the hard bark of the tree and looked down at the little girl.

"They're coming!" Imee wailed as if quoting from any of a hundred different horror films.

Tony blinked. Sure enough, when he concentrated he could hear voices and the sound of undergrowth movement to the east of them.

Imee's breathing sped up and she grabbed his arm and pulled.

"C'mon." She pulled at him again, trying to make him move.

"Imee, listen to me," Tony swallowed hard. "I want you to run and don't look back, no matter what, just keep running."

"But…"

He could hear the tears in her voice.

"Please, Imee. You're my partner, right?" He spoke urgently. "I'm relying on you to get help, okay. Run and keep running until you get to the nearest house and call NCIS, can you remember that? Call NCIS and ask for Director Vance but don't worry if you forget… just call the cops…okay?"

They were getting nearer.

"Go, please Imee… run." He pleaded with her.

She paused for a second before she turned and disappeared into the darkness.

Tony took a deep breath and leaned against the tree. It was so damn cold his teeth were chattering like castanets. He rested his chin against his chest and put his hands under his armpits.

Why the hell did shit like this keep happening to him? He was in the middle of a fucking wood in the mid-winter dressed for a Summer's day.

There was no way he could walk, let alone run.

All he could do was wait.

He knew what would happen once they found him but hey, he was under no illusion that it was a perfect plan.

Imee's only hope was if he could distract them long enough for her to get to safety.

**TBC**

* * *

**TBC**

**Special chocolate brownies to all who review. :)**


	9. Chapter 9

Firstly can I apologise for how long this chapter has taken to post. My old Powerbook decided to explode, taking with it the almost completed chapter so I had to re-write the whole freaking thing! And then last weekend **Scousemuz1k, Vanishingp2000** and **Cymraes** came to stay at Casa Cheeky so I was a little distracted by the thought of their visit (distracted - read - over excited!). It was an absolutely wonderful weekend and I love them all.

_Thanks to Scouse for betaing this chapter but I fiddled and added a lot after so all mistakes are mine!_

_Lastly, thank you to all who voted for 'Convincing the World He Didn't Exist' in the NCIS FanFiction awards 2010. I tied for the top spot for best angst story with the lovely Richefic and I'm so proud!_

_Thanks again_

_Cheeks_

_xx_

* * *

Chapter 9

McGee had to force himself to concentrate on the task in hand but it was difficult. The apartment Tony was using was incredible and just thinking about the complex electrical loom work that must be lurking behind the walls made his head want to explode. It was the kind of place Tim aspired to own but knew he'd never, ever be able to afford unless he could write a book that actually made it onto the bestseller list.

The remote was sleek and black and shiny and McGee wanted to be able to control everything in his life with a push of a button.

It was also a total mystery how DiNozzo had managed to work all the complicated systems because McGee had seen how Tony abused his computer at work, routinely thumping the side of the monitor in frustration and pecking at his keyboard hard like a demented chicken hunting for worms.

McGee couldn't resist opening and shutting the curtains once more, not for any other reason other than he liked to watch how the material smoothly undulated across the large picture window like molten lava flowing across a landscape.

He stood and looked around for anything in the room he might have missed, very much aware that Gibbs would be calling again soon to issue yet another blistering chewing out for not finding where Tony had hidden his files. Although he may not be a green agent any longer, Gibbs still had the power to terrify; add Director Vance's own barks of displeasure into that equation and he found himself turning into a bag of nerves.

It didn't help that he was feeling below par. Gibb's blunt revelation of the true nature of Tony's assignment had brought with it a tension headache that throbbed intensely. His head had not improved any when he'd opened an innocent looking folder on Tony's laptop whilst hunting through the hard drive. The images McGee found had sickened him to the stomach, made him feel contaminated even though he knew why Tony had them there. The photographs would not be something he would be able to shake from his memory for a long time and it gave him a brief taste of what the past months must have been like for his colleague.

It crystallized just where Tony's main skills lay as an agent. McGee just couldn't reconcile the juvenile and lighthearted DiNozzo with the life he'd seen on that laptop. He'd been ashamed to say that he'd immediately offered a prayer of thanks to several different deities that director Vance hadn't chosen him for the assignment because there was no way he could have done it.

DiNozzo was an undercover agent through and through.

This case proved it.

And as much as it galled him, McGee knew it wasn't something that could be learned. It was an innate skill that came as naturally to Tony as breathing and it was a talent he knew he could never attain, no matter how hard he tried.

McGee reluctantly put the control panel down and made for the en-suite wet room.

The bathroom was full of the high-end lotions and strange bottles of product typical of DiNozzo. He picked up each bottle and shook just in case Tony had been especially devious when it came to a hiding place and cursed the man soundly when he ended up covered in Lime and Bergamot shampoo for his pains.

After wiping off the slimy, green glop he moved onto the medicine cabinet.

You learned a lot about someone from the contents of their bathroom cabinet and Tony's was no exception.

McGee poked around the shelves. There was an electric shaver, a box of Tylenol, some indigestion tablets - with the amount of junk food Tony ate those were not a surprise - and a half full bottle of strong mint mouthwash. He blanched when he saw the next item and retrieving a pen from his top pocket, he pushed an obscenely large tub of petroleum jelly to one side. He really, really didn't want to know what DiNozzo used that for.

He grinned and filed that tidbit away to embarrass Tony with at a later date.

The next two items wiped the smile off his face very quickly.

Two inhalers sat on the bottom shelf. He may not have any medical experience but both seemed pretty self-explanatory to him. He had seen enough wheezy kids at school puffing away to know that inhalers meant lung problems and that two inhalers certainly meant more than a mild case of asthma.

McGee tossed the pen in the sink and picked up both canisters to inspect the labels. Dr. B. Pitt's name was on each, along with the address of Bethesda Naval Hospital. One, he read, was a corticosteroid and the other a bronchodilator. What caused his surprise was that the dates on both were recent. The white labels had that slightly grubby and curled appearance that spoke of regular use, the fact that Tony didn't have either on him indicated that while he didn't use them on a daily basis, he clearly used them enough to bring them here.

He frowned.

It had been years since Tony's near fatal confrontation with the pneumonic plague and yet he'd never once seen Tony use either inhaler.

That both worried and surprised him as he would have expected Tony to make a big thing about needing medication for his lungs after his legendary near death experience, as he always took great delight in telling all and sundry that he'd had a disease from the dark ages.

Obviously he didn't know his colleague as much as he thought he did.

They had never seen Tony use the inhalers because he didn't _want_ them to know he used them.

It also made him speculate just what else Tony kept from the team. They all had secrets but Tony acted like his life was an open book, which was obviously not the case and he felt like he was totally violating his friend's privacy in finding them. This may not be Tony's real residence but the place oozed the Italian's personality, from the magazines on the table, the shoes lined up by the wardrobe, to the DVD's scattered on the sideboard.

Going through someone's personal possessions wasn't something he enjoyed at the best of times, but rifling through DiNozzo's things was just wrong, especially as he couldn't shake the fear that maybe Tony was already beyond their help.

McGee sighed and slipped the medication in his pocket.

They had been methodically searching for more than forty minutes and they had come up with nothing.

And Gibbs was definitely getting more pissed each time he called, it wasn't his boss' normal default level of pissed either; it was tinged with an anxiety so highly infectious that it reached through the airwaves and seemed to choke him.

McGee screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Taking the packet of Tylenol from cabinet the shelf, he downed two tablets with a handful of water from the sink.

He took one last look around the bedroom then made his way into the large kitchen where Ziva was searching and started to go through the cupboards.

"This is infuriating. I'm sure he did this deliberately just to torture us!" Ziva cried out.

She grimaced and held up a plate for him to see. There was something green and fuzzy living under the plastic wrap. What it might have been at one time was unclear but whatever it was, it was clearly wasn't edible now.

"I will take great pleasure in hurting Tony when we eventually find him, if only for making me search through the contents of this refrigerator. I swear it is not normal for a grown man to live like this. He is a pig."

To anyone else it would seem a crass and insensitive comment considering the situation but McGee knew that it was just Ziva's way. The thing he picked up on was not the threat to maim Tony but the firm confidence that they would find him and he'd be okay enough to torture.

Ziva had moved on from the fridge and started pulling out drawers, running her hands underneath and behind each.

This was so frustrating. After another half an hour of fruitless searching McGee gave up. He slid down onto the floor and sighed.

Where the hell would Tony hide a USB stick?

"We do not have time for this ridiculous game of hide and seek!" Ziva slammed her hand down on the counter top and gave an exaggerated squawk of frustration.

McGee tried to act like he hadn't jumped out of his skin and casually ran his hand through his hair, silently cursing Tony as he did so.

The next moment his brain sparked into life and he scrambled up.

"The sneaky bastard!" He all but shouted.

"What?"

Ziva swung around but he kept quiet just in case he was wrong but he was sure he wasn't. It would certainly correspond with Tony's juvenile sense of humor.

McGee swiftly moved across the kitchen and flung open one of the cupboards he'd just looked through. There amongst all the kiddy breakfast cereals that were pretty much sugar, coloring and nothing else, sat tub after tub of dried prunes and he really didn't think that Tony was the type of person who cared if his bowels were regular or not and if he did then certainly not to the extent that he needed enough fruit to keep most of Washington moving freely.

He started to open each one, flinging the lids down and emptying the brown, wrinkled fruits into the sink. Ziva quickly caught on. On her second tub she whooped and held up a little evidence bag smeared with brown, sticky goo, complete with memory stick.

McGee snatched it from her and headed for the lounge area and his laptop. He plugged the stick in and started reading.

Ziva paced, as he scanned the file, not caring if he looked like a moron when his lips moved as he read.

He triumphantly pulled his cell out of his jacket.

"Got it, Boss!" McGee quickly read out the address in West Virginia with a huge sense of relief.

He could hear Gibbs bark at someone, asking how far away the address was from where they were. A voice he didn't recognize and surmised to be a LEO, stuttered that it was less than thirty minutes.

Car doors slammed and he heard an engine gun into action and the screech of tires as a car accelerated at top speed. With Gibbs driving he suspected that they'd reach their destination in record time.

"I'm putting you on speaker, McGee. Any idea why Agent DiNozzo came down here?" Director Vance's voice came on the line. McGee pressed the speaker key on his cell so Ziva could hear the conversation too.

"Yes sir. Tony found out that Commander Grey had a second property that hadn't come up in any FBI or agency searches. It belonged to a distant Aunt and there is no mortgage on the property so it wasn't flagged anywhere. It's not the kind of place that Sarah Reinhart would grace in a million years with her background. Tony wrote that he figured that it would make sense that the Commander might keep any…um…ominous material there, away from his family."

"Any evidence found there would have been inadmissible in court if it was obtained without a warrant." Vance said. McGee wasn't sure if he was speaking to him or just musing out loud.

"DiNozzo would have wanted to check out the house before he decided to take it any further, Leon, just in case it was a false lead," Gibbs responded over the sound of a blaring car horn and screeching brakes.

McGee winced at Ziva and wondered what traffic code Gibbs had just violated.

"Yeah?" Vance gave an amused snort over the line. "Was that what DiNozzo was doing, Jethro, because I've heard that some law enforcement officers are in the habit of searching a property without a warrant to get a jump on finding useful evidence?"

"Hey, it gets the job done and you've got to admit that it beats standing around with your dick in your hand whilst someone wakes up a judge to try and convince him you've got enough to go in," Gibbs huffed. "Especially if you don't need to."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear that statement over the sound of the traffic, as I'm sure you're aware as the head of a federal agency I would never condone such practices."

"Not saying you do, Leon, not saying you do." Gibbs replied and again McGee could hear the sounds of disgruntled drivers signaling their displeasure at his boss' driving.

"Phone records, McGee" Gibbs said brusquely

That made McGee jump.

"Boss?"

"Have you, or have you not traced Grey's phone records yet?" Gibbs spoke with his usual level of patience and McGee flushed.

"Um, I thought that finding Tony's case notes took precedence."

There was a huff of exasperation over the line.

"Which you've found, so get your ass into gear. Go through Grey's records and see if that bastard has been anywhere near West Virginia in the last 24 hours." Gibbs voice rose in anger. "Ziva, you get Abs to find out anything she can on Commander Grey and his wife, hell, even the damn gardener if there's one. I want to know everything about that household. Who visits, for how long…everything, you hear."

The line went dead in Gibbs' usual manner.

McGee grabbed his laptop again and started tapping away whilst Ziva spoke with Abby. It sounded like she was having a hard time getting Abby to focus on what Gibbs asked her to do and she was mainly trying to calm down the exuberant Goth as she freaked out over Tony's disappearance.

He bought up the commander's phone records and started to work through the numbers listed, both incoming and outgoing for the previous day. One number leapt out at him and he could feel the palms of his hands start to sweat.

This was not good.

His fingers swept across the keyboard as he checked and double-checked but there was no doubt about it. He ran a phone trace and his heart rate sped up.

McGee had a pretty good idea now of what had gone wrong and Tony was in deep shit because of it.

He fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it in his haste to ring Gibbs.

"Come on, c'mon. …Answer the damn phone, Boss!" he muttered.

Ziva was still talking to Abby but she must have heard from the tone of his voice that something was up. She quickly hung up and hovered with a frown on her face.

The cell the other end answered after three rings but that still felt like an eternity to him.

"What you got, McGee?" Gibbs' voice came on the line sounding slightly tinny as the speaker was activated.

"I think I know how Tony's assignment was compromised." McGee blurted out urgently.

* * *

Tony didn't know how long it had been since he'd sent Imee away. He was usually so good at judging the passage of time, that even without his watch he'd be pretty much be on the button to within a few minutes, no matter what he was doing, but not right now. Things were more than a little distorted and he didn't like that one bit.

He felt so damn tired that the overwhelming desire to just lie down and sleep was so tempting. Maybe if he curled up in a ball then he wouldn't feel so damn cold. His fingers were throbbing; they were so numb and the violent shivers that wracked his body were tensing his muscles so tightly that just about every part of his body ached.

It had started to snow heavily again and the wind whipped the falling snowflakes against his arms and face making his bare skin sting.

Tony wrapped his arms around his torso and prayed that the girl could get to safety. He'd passed lots of houses dotted along the road that had cars parked in the drive, so they couldn't just be vacation lets. Someone had to be around to help her and she was as smart as a whip, she'd think on her feet. He just hoped that no one stopped her before she made it to one of the houses.

He could definitely hear movement now; someone was forcing their way through the undergrowth, coming closer.

Tony made a decision there and then. Fuck it, there was no way he was going to go down without a fight even if he knew right now a two-year-old could probably kick his ass.

DiNozzos didn't give up, no matter how bad the odds.

A twig snapped to the left of him.

Tony stayed as still as he could and held his breath, willing his teeth to stop chattering. He put his faith in the fact that surprise was going to be his best weapon.

A beam of light passed over him and he tensed, expecting the flashlight to quickly return to where he stood against the tree but it didn't.

It was too dark to see who it was but he could tell that they were on their own. It made sense that Grey and Co would split up to cover more ground in their search and that was all well and good for him, it gave Tony at least a fighting chance. There was no way he'd win against three but one on one he at least had a shot.

The snow he'd been cursing was now proving to be a godsend. Tony heard a muffled curse as the person approaching stumbled and went down hard less than a foot from him. The flashlight went flying and it flickered on the ground before the light went out completely, taking with it the golden glow that had at least enabled Tony to see where the man had been.

Tony blinked through the snow and couldn't quite believe it when he saw a dark shape standing literally in front of him. The guy was too busy brushing snow off his clothes to pay any attention and Tony knew that it was now or never.

He moved as quickly as he could considering he was probably in the first stages of hypothermia. Tony launched himself and wrapped one arm around the man's throat in a chokehold.

What Tony hadn't been expecting was the utter weakness in his arms, he knew that he wasn't in the best of shape but something so easy as choking a man unconscious shouldn't have been this hard.

The man kicked and twisted violently against him. Tony clung on but he could feel his hold weakening with every second and he knew that if he did lose his grip then it was game over for him.

Without even thinking, working purely on instinct and blind panic, Tony moved one hand up to the man's head and twisted, hard.

The loud snap that followed reverberated throughout the woods, and the man went limp and collapsed instantly, taking Tony down with him.

He took a moment, breathing heavily on his hands and knees before he crawled over to where he'd seen the flashlight fall. Using a sweeping motion, Tony fumbled in the snow until he eventually found it. His fingers were beyond painful and it took an age to try and find the on/off switch, when nothing happened he shook the thing in desperation.

Thankfully the flashlight decided it had had its fun and sprung back to life.

Tony made his way back to where the body lay and directed the beam of light at the dead man.

He shut his eyes and groaned.

Fabulous!

Freaking great!

If he got out of this alive the SecNav and Vance were going to send him to Siberia for real for this one.

Tony stared into the already dulling and lifeless eyes.

He'd just snapped the neck of Senator Reinhart.

Tony couldn't help the mirthless laugh that escaped his lips.

The press was going to have a field day with this but right now he really didn't care.

One down.

Two to go.

All he had to do now was get up but it was funny how such a simple task seemed to be beyond him.

**TBC**

**Did I tell you how much I love you all? Chocolate and hugs to all who review! :)  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for all the fabulous reviews and comments. Love you guys! Hugs to Scousemuz1k for her sound beta work on this chapter but I once again fiddled, so all mistakes are mine!**

**Here we go again...onto the next thrilling installment! :)**

* * *

The address they pulled up outside reminded Gibbs a lot of the houses in Stillwater. It was a typical turn of the century wood frame family home, worn with age and comfortable, but as DiNozzo had written in his report, not the kind of place the daughter of a senator would ever willingly grace. It was far too homespun for someone who'd grown up with summers in Monte Carlo, yachts and polo ponies on tap.

Gibbs sat behind the wheel and nodded at the car parked outside.

"He's definitely here," he said, as McGee's report quickly germinated into a thousand possibilities in his mind, none of them good for DiNozzo. "How the hell was this missed, Leon?"

"I don't know but trust me, heads will roll." Vance didn't sound happy and that was good because that anger could be used to make sure that this didn't happen again.

"They'd better; this fuck up might just have cost DiNozzo his life," Gibbs glared at the director.

Vance's silence was heavy and spoke volumes.

Gibbs got out the car and shut the door quietly. He pulled out his sidearm and the director did the same.

"Grey's also here," Gibbs commented as he passed the commanders Porsche Boxster in the drive; behind that sat a gleaming Mercedes.

Hell, just how many people are involved in DiNozzo's disappearance? Who did the Merc belong to? It was yet another anomaly to work into this glorious clusterfuck of an assignment.

He gave a nod to Vance; they both crept up the path. The snow was falling heavily again and it didn't make for a one hundred percent stealthy progress when you were focusing on not falling on your ass on a sloping pathway.

The lights were on in the house, and when he tried, the front door was open. Gibbs signaled that he was going in. Vance nodded, raised his gun and followed.

He pushed open the door and entered. The house was silent in a way that only an empty house could be. Years of experience had taught Gibbs the subtle differences between that and one in which people were hiding, but he still kept his gun drawn, he wasn't stupid.

Once he'd checked the immediate area he relaxed his stance.

Vance set about checking the rooms but Gibbs' eyes were drawn to the hall floor where a baseball bat was lying abandoned on the floor.

Gibbs knelt down and pulled on a pair of latex gloves; he carefully picked up the bat. He peered at the end and saw blood and hair clinging to the wood.

He looked at the wall opposite; the light spattering of blood sprayed up the white paint told its own story.

Sighing, he gently rested the bat against the wall and turned his attention back to the floor.

Lying next to the irregular patch of drying blood was a black wallet. He picked it up, flipped it open and searched through the contents. There were about three hundred bucks in various bills and a couple of receipts. He slid one of the credit cards out of the leather slot.

"Dammit." He whispered.

Gibbs replaced the card and stood. With his jaw clenched he followed the trail of blood down the hall into the den. The trail ended at another puddle of blood.

He walked the scene. Took in everything from the broken glass at the patio doors to the child's storybook and coat on the couch.

"It's clear." Vance appeared at his side. "It looks like they left in a hurry but they'll be back."

Without turning Gibbs held out the wallet.

Vance pulled on a pair of gloves.

"It's DiNozzo's," Gibbs started to pace the room. "From what I can make out someone hit him with a baseball bat in the hall then dragged him into here. Somehow he got up, there's a trail of blood spots leading over to the door and then over to the patio windows."

Vance nodded and looked grim.

"And I think we know now why DiNozzo decided to go it alone." Gibbs walked over to the couch and picked up the storybook and pink coat.

"There's no cell coverage here and he wouldn't have left a child here while he went for a phone," he responded. Vance's face darkened as he took in the small pink raincoat.

"So he agree that he probably grabbed the kid and went out the window, DiNozzo's injured and from the way they left, the fuckers are after him. We need to call this in and get out there," Gibbs placed the coat back down on the couch.

"Already done, the local officers are on their way to secure the scene and David and McGee are on their way by helo." Vance zipped up his coat and checked his gun again.

The director was already making his way outside without waiting for a response.

Gibbs quirked one eyebrow and quickly followed the director out into the snow.

He didn't think he'd ever seen Vance so fired up. Whether it was because the man was out in the field again or because of guilt he was feeling over DiNozzo he didn't know, didn't care as long as the Director knew that pussyfooting around wasn't going to cut it.

Gibbs was going to nail these perverted bastards whatever it took, procedures be damned. If he had a chance to pop a cap in one of their asses then he would for hurting his agent; but add to that the fact that they had bought a child to the house, and all negotiations were out.

They were all as guilty as sin in his mind.

A gust of wind slammed into them from the east and it was cold enough to take his breath away. He shivered and turned the collar up on his jacket as he gazed towards the inky tree line. It was dense and thick, didn't look like it was managed, and it was perfect to get lost in. He silently applauded Tony for choosing the relative safety of the tangled trees. If he were as badly injured as the blood inside of the house indicated, then that would be his only shot. Hide out there and wait but the weather was going to be a bitch.

Vance paused and pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and pointed it onto the ground. Gibbs moved over to where he was pointing.

"Blood trail, DiNozzo went this way," Vance said softly.

The snow was falling fast but not fast enough to cover the many tracks. Sure enough there was a trail of crimson standing out starkly against the whiteness of the ice. Gibbs ground his teeth together.

Wherever Tony was he was still losing blood fast.

"Three sets of footprints following on, at least we know what we're dealing with now. C'mon, lets move." Gibbs pulled his own flashlight out of his pocket and started to move quickly in the same direction Tony had.

"On your six," Vance nodded.

That phrase didn't offer the same level of security coming from Vance's mouth as it did DiNozzo's but it would do.

Gibbs ducked under a branch, looking for any signs that his second had passed; his light caught another splash of blood, and his jaw clenched again.

Tony would be fine, a little banged up but fine.

Gibbs forced his way through the undergrowth and tried his best to block out the image of the blood-splattered wall and bat.

DiNozzo was like a cat but unlike a feline's nine lives, he seemed to have a hell of a lot more chances, if all the metaphorical and real bullets dodged over the years were anything to go by. Gibbs just hoped that that impressive record would continue to hold.

* * *

Dispatching the senator had taken the last of any reserves Tony had, and the phrase 'weak as a kitten' very much made sense to him now.

As he knelt on all fours, trying to get his breathe back, it occurred to him that if he didn't get up off the floor anytime soon then in all probability, he never would.

Tony couldn't feel his hands any longer; he couldn't feel any part of his body anymore if he were honest.

Jesus, he didn't think he'd ever been so cold in his life before.

Numbness, that was the overriding theme. He was one big, ice cube; his teeth were crashing together so violently Tony seriously worried that they'd just shake clear out of his head.

He knew he had to move, but the reality of that was going to prove more then a little difficult to execute.

He thought about it for a few minutes more, to build up the requisite courage because he knew that it wasn't going to be pretty when he did stand.

Using the rapidly cooling corpse of Reinhart to lever himself upwards, Tony pushed up off the ground. He knew Ducky would wince at his obvious lack of respect but hell, the man was definitely beyond caring now and considering the senator had been intent on making sure he didn't leave the woods alive, Tony couldn't really bring himself to care much.

Once upright the change in pressure made his skull feel like it was being squeezed in a vice and he couldn't help the many colorful curses that escaped his lips, alluding to questionable lineages and several sexual practices that were definitely illegal in the red states.

Tony swayed and took one step forward; the world seemed to spin three hundred and sixty degrees. The vomit that spewed out of his mouth and nose caught him completely unawares and he gagged as he covered his tee shirt and jeans with the half digested peach pie he'd eaten a few hours earlier. As if he hadn't been feeling bad enough the fates had to go and add throwing up into the mix.

He really, really hated throwing up.

Breathing heavily through his nose to quell his stomach he watched the snow tumble down from the sky. In any other scenario it would have been magical, he'd always loved the snow as a kid but right now the white stuff was just proving to be a pain in the ass.

With a moan of self-pity at the vile slush that was quickly forming on his chest, Tony tucked a numb hand under his armpit, seeking out any residual warmth he could, not that it made any difference.

He swung the flashlight around the clearing trying to figure out which direction Imee had run off in. Every tree looked the same to him, each shape blurred into another; he desperately tried to spot something that would help, but gave up when he realized that it was useless.

Taking a wild stab in the dark Tony lurched forward, hoping that he was at least going in roughly the same direction as the little girl.

He didn't care that having the flashlight on was a bad idea, without it he knew he'd be on the ground quicker than an elderly nun after a few glasses of Polish vodka. As it was, concentrating on the beam of light on the ground was making him more nauseous than he already felt and he kept stumbling over his own feet. A couple of times he almost went down as he got his feet caught up in tree roots, but all he could do was keep pushing forward through the foliage if he didn't want to end up a DiNozzo shaped icicle.

As he stumbled on the snow was still falling through the thick canopy above and settling on his shoulders. He gave a gentle shimmy to try and shift it.

Tony suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.

He was a fucking idiot.

Why was he running around freezing his ass off when the senator was lying back in the clearing wearing a huge padded jacket? It was a testimony to just how scrambled his thought process was that such a simple solution to his state of undress had eluded him.

Tony shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. It wasn't often he felt so totally overwhelmed, but right now that emotion was all he could feel and he fought the urge to cry in sheer frustration at the whole situation.

To go back or not.

Part of him was just saying 'fuck it'.

He was too damn tired, hurting too much; but he was worried that he'd be walking around in befuddled circles all night due to the fact that his sense of direction was shot and his eyesight was fucked – and the warmth the jacket would provide might buy him some extra time.

His training won over the desire to just give up.

With a weary sigh he turned around, and started to slog back the way he'd just come from.

Tony could barely hold onto the flashlight now. His hands were burning; they felt like they were on fire. He'd been shot several times in the past but that pain didn't come close to what he was feeling now.

He really should have just stayed in his bed this morning. If he had then he'd be warm right now, probably watching his huge plasma with some form of take-out next to him.

Just whom the hell had he pissed off in a previous life that shit like this kept happening to him?

One minute he was feeling sorry for himself and the next he was flat on his back.

He went down hard and it took him way too long to figure out what had just happened.

"Get up, you piece of shit." A voice broke through the inky blackness.

Oh crap.

He rolled over and crawled onto his knees again. This was becoming like Groundhog Day. He reached for the light as he chuckled; not that the situation was funny but he knew how much effort it had taken to get up the last time.

"You think this is funny, Asshole?" the voice barked again.

Tony swung the beam of light at the voice.

Grey was standing looking seriously pissed but it was the guy next to him that caused the epiphany, the ultimate light bulb moment.

Tony squinted up at the man.

Here was the missing link in the case, the reason the Norfolk investigation had been such a spectacular fuck up from the off. Grey had a pet agent feeding him info on the investigation every step of the way.

"I k-knew you w-were a b-bastard but e-even I n-never s-suspected you w-were a s-sicko w-who g-got off on k-kiddies, s-special a-agent Acker." Tony was amazed that he managed to speak as his lips were beyond numb and teeth were chattering so hard.

Acker had been a thorn in Tony's side ever since he'd transferred from Norfolk eight months ago. His sharp instincts must have been at work regarding the man because Tony had taken an instant dislike to the new agent. He was arrogant and full of his own self-importance from the minute he'd arrived in the navy yard. Tony had spent the last few months swinging between ignoring the agent whenever possible and baiting him until the feeling of dislike was mutual.

No wonder Ackers had hit him so hard around the back of his head.

"Shut the fuck up," Acker spat out.

Winding people up was his forte and it was a hard habit to break.

"W-what? S-struck a…a n-nerve h-have I? C-can't g-get it u-up w-with a r-real w-women, th-that w-why y-you h-hang a-around w-with C-captain P-pedo there…."

He didn't get to finish. Grey growled and launched himself.

Although the kick to the stomach wasn't unexpected Tony couldn't move fast enough to lessen the blow.

The force knocked him off his hands and knees sending him back down onto the ground but Grey didn't stop there.

"I trusted you," Grey shouted as his boot landed again and again. "I let you into my home..."

Tony curled into a protective ball and grunted as each blow landed. Wasn't much else he could do.

Eventually Grey stopped, Tony wasn't sure if it was by design or because Acker told him to. Either way he was mighty glad he had.

He turned his head and peered up at them again, forcing a grin onto his face even though his body was definitely not remotely happy.

Special Agent Ackers pulled out a gun and aimed.

Tony suspected that the weapon was his own confiscated gun. Great. Gibbs was going to love that one.

He shifted so he was more upright as rolling around in the detritus of the snowy woodland floor was so undignified.

If he was going to die then he'd damn well make sure he'd meet his maker wisecracking all the way.

"I t-take it th-this m-means o-our t-tennis m-match is c-cancelled on T-Tuesday, Chaz?"

"Oh, I think you'd better cancel all future appointments, DiNozzo," Ackers said smugly, as Grey snorted in amusement, looking every bit like an obsequious henchman.

It was a clichéd Bond moment if ever there was one. The ridiculous posturing and gloating over his impending death was so lame.

They'd start talking about their plans for world domination next.

"Aww, a-and I h-had a d-dinner d-date with J-Jennifer Aniston n-next w-week," Tony snarked and narrowly missed biting his tongue off as his teeth crashed together.

Talking shouldn't have been this hard but Tony tried not to show how much he was hurting and continued to smirk at the two men.

"You think you're such a funny man don't you, DiNozzo, wont be so funny when you're rotting, six foot under," Grey snarled.

"L-like t-that k-kid I d-dug up in y-your b-back g-garden, G-gray?" Tony blinked and raised his hand as the flashlight beam shone straight into his eyes. "T-that m-make y-you f-feel like a b-big m-man to k-kill s-someone who p-probably w-weighed l-less than f-forty p-pounds?"

Tony saw the look of shock that appeared on both their faces.

"Yeah, Ackers, th-that's what I d-do, I investigate, th-that's why I'm a s-senior f-field agent and you're j-just a s-schmuck. Is t-that w-what y-you p-p-planned to d-do to t-that g-girl t-tonight? R-rape and m-murder for k-kicks. Well f-fuck you b-both, s-she's safe n-now."

Tony curled his lip up in disgust and prayed that he was right about Imee.

"Where is she?" Ackers yelled.

Thank God, they hadn't got her.

"S-she's p-probably on t-the phone t-to the c-cops r-right n-now, you're both s-screwed," he said smugly even though he knew it was too late for him to benefit.

"He's lying, Norman's probably got her." Grey shook his head.

Tony laughed.

"N-norm's d-dead… m-may h-have a-accidentally b-broken his n-neck."

Even in the yellow glow of the flashlight Tony could see Grey blanch. All color leeched from his face as panic set in. There was no way back now. People were going to notice a senator going missing. The FBI would be called in; everyone who knew him would be under scrutiny.

If Grey was shitting himself, then so was Ackers.

The wheels were definitely turning in the NCIS agent's head too.

Ackers raised the gun and Tony heard the click as the safety was released.

He stared hard at Tony with a look of explosive anger on his face.

* * *

Gibbs quickly picked up the trail; the broken branches, blood spots and flattened foliage were easy to spot even in the dark.

Five people moving through the woods in haste left a lot of clues.

They were both silent, each caught up in his own thoughts.

The unmistakable sound of a gunshot made Gibbs stop in his tracks.

His heart literally jumped into his throat as fear gripped his very soul.

Gibbs turned and stared at Vance…. then both of them started running.

**TBC**

**Read and review and I'll bake you nummy cookies. :)  
**


	11. Chapter 11

_**Here I am again!**_

_**Thanks to Scousemuzik for beta-ing but again I fiddled so all mistakes are mine. :)**_

_**Thanks for all the fabulous comments and messages. *big hugs to all***_

_**Soooooooooo...**_

_**Onwards and upwards!**_

_**Love  
**_

_**Cheeks**_

_**xx**_

* * *

The look of astonishment on Grey's face would linger in Tony's mind for a long time. Not because he felt one iota of sorrow or pity for the man but the expression was just so incredulous and ever so faintly comical, as if Grey couldn't quite believe what had just happened; couldn't quite believe that Acker had just shot him.

Grey looked down and stared at the gaping hole in his centre before he clutched his stomach in astonishment and fell to his knees. He tried to speak but whatever he was trying to say only came out as a long, drawn-out gurgle before he slumped face first into the leaf mould and snow.

It wasn't hard to know what Acker was thinking. Eliminate all the weak links if he were to contain this mess, including him.

It was a sound plan but it wasn't going to work.

"Y-you d-doing a l-little h-housecleaning, A-Acker," Tony stuttered as he struggled to get up. "N-not going to w-work…t-too m-many p-people involved."

"Wouldn't be the first time I've had too, DiNozzo. I'm real good at cover ups." Acker growled smugly.

Tony somehow managed to get to his feet again. He swung his arm out and steadied himself with the aid of a tree and swallowed hard before he continued. The damn nausea was back and throwing up again would totally spoil the smug gloating tone he was going for.

"I b-bet y-you a-are but y-you k-know w-who I've b-b-been reporting t-to on t-this op?"

That got Acker's attention.

"Gibbs isn't all that special. He's just a has-been waiting for retirement from what I've seen," Acker spoke with a sense of bravado that didn't quite match up to the look on his face.

"Oh y-you s-should b-be s-scared of G-Gibbs, A-Acker b-but h-he's the l-least of y-your p-problems n-now. Not r-reporting to h-him. S-So y-you w-wanna k-know…"

"Shut it, DiNozzo," Acker spat, giving Tony the impression that he was beginning to understand just how much he'd screwed up by allying himself to Commander Grey.

"S-Sec-Nav and d-director V-Vance both h-have a r-real h-hard-on for t-this c-case," Tony baited. "T-They o-ordered t-this o-op a-and w-when I-I don't r-report t-they aren't g-going t-to t-throw e-every r-resource into f-f-finding o-out what h-happened, k-kill me a-and t-the e-end r-result will s-still l-lead s-straight b-back to y-you."

"Shut the fuck up." Oh, he was getting rattled.

"T-This i-is high l-level s-shit, A-Acker, a-and y-you d-don't have t-the s-stones to k-keep y-your c-cool." Tony paused not for dramatic effect but because he needed a moment to focus on staying on his feet. "M-Might as w-well h-hand y-yourself in n-now."

Acker licked his lips and shook his head.

"Not going to happen, DiNozzo." Special Agent Acker shifted his stance and aimed the Sig with a new vigour. "This will be a pleasure; been fantasizing about shooting you for months. I just never thought I'd ever get the chance."

So this was it.

Damn, Tony had hoped the end would be more dramatic than this but you had to roll with the punches.

He wrapped his arms around himself and went with nonchalance as a theme, which was difficult to pull off considering he was just about to die, but James Dean would have been proud.

"C-C'mon, if y-you a-are g-going t-to d-do it. I'm f-freezing m-my ass o-off h-here," Tony said with a sense of resignation.

To be honest he was looking forward to a little heat and the way he'd lived his life Tony knew he was going downwards; Satan probably had a special room ready for him complete with a dozen disgruntled ex's to torment him for all eternity.

Then came the strangest thing.

The expected gunshot didn't happen.

Instead Special Agent Acker cried out in pain and spun around in surprise.

Tony frowned and blinked as another missile hit Acker on the cheek. The agent yelped again, obviously not knowing what to make of this sneak attack.

There wasn't much force behind the projectiles blows but they were having the desired effect and that gave Tony all the information he needed.

C'mon, just one more, Honey.

Another rock came sailing in from deep in the woods and hit Acker hard on the temple. He spun around again and pressed his palm against the bleeding cut above his eye, his focus on the person who was throwing stuff at him.

Using the distraction for the purpose that was intended, Tony raced forward. Employing his weight rather than any great skill with the maneuver, he barreled hard into Acker.

They both fell to the ground in a messy heap.

In a frantic scrabble, Tony grabbed for the gun in the other man's hand. He was uncoordinated, all his fighting skills had flown out the window probably the same time the baseball bat had connected with his skull, but fear and panic made for a powerful combination.

He managed to twist Acker's wrist downwards and away but now there was a movie cliché grapple going on with the gun sandwiched between them.

When the gun fired Tony couldn't honestly say who the hell was hit, if anyone. He was so fucking cold that he suspected if someone set a bomb off under his ass he still wouldn't feel it.

Acker was still struggling and another bang rent through the night air.

This time Tony felt the power behind the shot.

He took stock.

Still nothing.

But Acker screamed and relinquished his hold on the gun – Tony tossed it as far as he could; it landed with a thump a little distance away.

Rolling off Acker and onto his back Tony gulped large lungful after large lungful of air. He turned his head and watched the agent. Nope, wasn't moving much apart from digging his heels into the ground and moaning. He didn't have a clue where Acker had been hit; just pleased that the man seemed incapacitated.

Okay. Now he was really done, didn't have the energy to think let alone get up again.

He turned his head again so he was staring at the canopy above.

The snow was still falling and he watched as the large flakes cascaded down. It looked strange from this angle and it kind of reminded him of when the Starship Enterprise went all long and skinny as it raced off into hyperspace.

A worried face loomed into view, tiny head encased in a huge black hood.

_"Tony?"_

He tried to smile at Imee but his mouth didn't want to form the shape.

She reached out a hand and jabbed his shoulder, prodding him with her gloved hand.

_"Tony!"_

Prod, prod - she was worse than Kate; she'd liked to jab him hard too.

_"Tony!"_

The little girl's voice rose in volume each time she spoke. She sounded scared.

He really tried to focus on her, tell her it was okay now but the snow looked so pretty.

Then Imee was rocking him back and forth, both hands on his chest as she shook.

And that felt good too and for the first time that night he actually felt contented.

For the first time that night he actually felt warm.

Blissfully warm and sleepy.

Tony blinked his eyes shut as a snowflake landed in his eye.

Yup, the snow was definitely pretty.

* * *

At he sound of the first gun shot Gibbs felt the world stop dead; when he heard the second and third he just didn't know what the hell to think.

They were close though.

He could hear someone calling Tony's name, a young voice that sounded panicked, and it did nothing to alleviate his fears.

"This way," Gibbs shifted direction slightly with Vance hot on his heels.

All he'd experienced throughout the years hadn't prepared Gibbs for what he saw in that clearing.

A little girl sat amongst several prone bodies and stared at them both; her eyes were huge in the beam of his light but what shocked him most was the gun she bravely held in front of her.

The image was so wrong.

She was shaking in fear and the Sig was way too big and heavy for her small hands. Gibbs doubted she could actually fire it, even if she'd wanted to, with those big gloves she had on – but that didn't mean accidents couldn't happen.

Gibbs swung his flashlight and held up his hands in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner. Vance moved beside him and did the same. He kept his eyes on Tony who was lying flat on his back, looking way too still, but he kept calm.

"It's okay, Honey, we're here to help," Gibbs softened his tone and spoke with a patience that would probably have had most people who knew him open mouthed with astonishment. "I'm just going to reach into my pocket and bring out my badge, I'm a federal agent, and you know what that is?"

Gibbs took a tentative step forward.

The girl shifted so she huddled over Tony, the gun still held in front of her, like a lioness protecting her cub, and as much as he hated seeing the image in front of him it also made him proud. Even though this little girl was obviously terrified she still projected an air of fierceness that was astounding.

Someone had taught her about values and responsibilities. She was still a baby but she was willing to stay and face a perceived danger instead of running away; that was damn impressive and DiNozzo must have made quite an impression on the girl for her to guard him like this.

Gibbs shared a look with Vance and the man nodded, giving him the reins.

"I'm Tony's boss. See?" Gibbs lifted his badge up and shone the flashlight so she could see it. "We just want to help Tony, he's hurt and he needs to get to a hospital."

The large brown eyes appraised him, appraised them both.

It seemed like an age before she spoke, the distrust evident in her voice.

"The other man was an agent too and he wanted to hurt us. He tried to kill Tony."

Damn, she was incredible. Gibbs couldn't fault her logic.

"I'm Tony's partner and it's my job to…. to look after him," she said firmly, the gun still pointing in their direction.

Gibbs looked across at Vance and gave a little smile. He could tell what was going through the director's head, it was the same thing that was going through his, this little girl would make one hell of an agent when she grew up.

"I know you don't trust us and that's good, I can see why Tony wanted you as a partner, you're smart but we really need to check on him. He doesn't look good right now does he?" Gibbs reasoned.

He knew that he could have rushed her and grabbed the gun and there would be nothing she could realistically do but Gibbs felt it was important to give her a little respect. She was taking her job seriously and he didn't feel he could take that away from her. God knows what had happened to her tonight. If giving her a little control back helped her in the long run then that's what he'd do…even if it was taking too much time. Time maybe Tony didn't have.

The girl silently looked at Tony and shook her head but she still didn't budge.

"I tell you what I'm going to do…what's your name? I'm Jethro and this is Leon," he stated.

"Imee," she responded quietly.

"Okay, Imee, I'll tell you what I'm going to do and you can say if it's okay with you." Gibbs smiled again.

She nodded slowly.

"I'll slowly walk over to you and I'm going to give you my gun. If I do anything you don't like then you can shoot me. That work for you?" Gibbs gave her a half smile.

That seemed to get a reaction, Imee thought about it then looked over at Vance. Gibbs turned and raised his eyebrow at the director.

"Honey, you can have my gun too, I'll stand right here until you say it's okay to move," Vance responded.

After a pause the girl nodded.

Gibbs grabbed Vance's gun and holding each loosely, barrels pointing downwards, he walked over to the girl and gently laid them both in her lap. He had a back up jammed down the back of his pants although he doubted the girl was going to frisk him; but who knew, she was a tough cookie.

"I'm just going to check these two first, make sure they aren't a threat anymore," Gibbs told the girl again she nodded.

Quickly, he walked over to Grey and turned the body over. The man was dead, no disputing that, the shot to his stomach was messy and his eyes stared upwards, devoid of any life.

He moved over to the second body and shone his flashlight down.

Gibbs winced, couldn't help it because there was a certain, fabulous poetry to the second gunshot wound he saw on the body and Gibbs wondered if DiNozzo had done it deliberately considering the man's disgusting sexual practices.

Special Agent Acker was sprawled on the ground, dark blood pooling around his groin. Gibbs used his foot to nudge the bastard just in case he was playing possum but if he'd been alive there was no way he'd be silent, Acker would be screaming in falsetto and clutching what used to be his penis.

"They're both dead," he said to Vance and he could see the girl relax a fraction.

Kneeling down next to Tony he put the flashlight in his mouth whilst he pulled his gloves off.

He gently shook Tony's shoulder, hoping to get a reaction.

"DiNozzo, hey, Tony,"

Using his right hand he felt Tony's neck for a pulse.

Jesus, he'd felt warmer corpses but eventually he found a sluggish rhythm. Using the light from his flashlight he quickly checked over the rest of Tony's body.

"How is he?" Vance asked.

"He's alive, he's bleeding from a nasty cut on his leg," Gibbs called over to Vance. "We need to get him to a hospital ASAP, I'm pretty sure he's hypothermic."

"What does that mean?" the girl asked.

"He's real cold, Imee," Gibbs responded.

"Tony made me wear his coat and sweater and gloves," her voice was barely registered above a whisper.

"Well, that's what partners do," Gibbs said simply. There was no way that DiNozzo would have stood by and let a child freeze on his watch even if giving her his own clothing had been a completely foolhardy thing to do.

He gently rocked Tony's head over to one side to check for damage. The back of his skull was a bloodied mess of hair and flesh. Shit, he'd been right in surmising what had happened. This wasn't good. How the hell he'd managed to carry on for so long with a head injury like that was baffling, but it shouldn't have come as a huge surprise. Wouldn't be the first time Tony had done something most people would have balked at, like pulling two people out of a deeply submerged car onto a dock and still having the energy to perform CPR.

Gibbs tugged off his jacket and tucked it around Tony; leaning down he talked softly into his ear

"DiNozzo, just hang on a little longer, you hear me."

"Is he going to die?" Imee asked. The girl was weakening; the gun was now resting on her knees.

"Not if I can help it," Gibbs turned around and crouched next to the little girl. "I need to ask you something important. There was another man, do you know who he was and what happened to him?"

Imee bit her lip.

"My mom worked for him; I didn't like him."

"What was his name?"

"Senator Reinhart," Imee said.

Gibbs heard Vance inhale sharply and curse.

"Did he follow you out here?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes." Imee nodded. "But it's okay, Tony killed him. I heard him tell him."

She pointed at Acker.

"Tony said he broke his neck."

Again, Gibbs heard Vance wince.

Whether it was because DiNozzo had just killed a highly decorated senator or because he heard a girl who was younger than his daughter talking about something so harsh in such a matter-of-fact way, he couldn't say. What he did know was that if Tony killed the man, he must have deserved it and it made things easier not having to worry about someone else running around with a gun.

Gibbs took a deep breath. Now he needed to move.

"Imee, I need you to look into my eyes and trust me because we've got to get Tony some help." Gibbs held out his hand. "I need you to give me that gun."

Imee blinked at him for what seemed like an eternity before she handed the Sig over. Gibbs used one of his gloves to hold it and placed the gun in an evidence bag.

"Thank you, now I want you to go with Leon over there and walk back to the house. There should be some police there and they will call your mom. That sound good for you?"

At his words the girl crumbled. Suddenly it all crashed down around her and she was back to being a little girl who just desperately wanted her mom.

"Here." Gibbs held up Vance's gun. Leon moved and grabbed it, putting it back in its holster. He held out his hand to Imee.

"C'mon Pumpkin, let's get you back to your mom."

Imee looked over at Gibbs and he nodded in encouragement.

She took one last look at Tony and placed her hand in the director's.

They started back towards the house with Vance talking about his daughter and her love of basketball and Miley Cyrus.

Gibbs turned his focus back to Tony and checked his pulse again, then set about putting pressure on the wound to his leg.

"You never cease to amaze me, DiNozzo; only you can get into so much trouble on an assignment that's not supposed to be dangerous."

Vance had barely left and he was already glancing at his watch and cursing the lack of medical assistance.

It was taking too long.

And DiNozzo's pulse was slowing with every minute that passed.

**TBC**

**Sorry, I really can't help the cliffhangers!  
**

**Devils food cake to all who review. :)  
**

**Note: A couple of reviewers who asked why Imee didn't recognize Gibbs name as Tony had asked her to call him. Ahhh, go back to that chapter and check. Tony didn't ask Imee to call Gibbs, he asked her to call NCIS and ask for Vance or just call the cops if she didn't remember, he never spoke about Gibbs because Gibbs wasn't who he was reporting too and as Gibbs referred to Vance as 'Leon' she didn't know. I was trying to get out of the cliche of Gibbs being the ONLY one Tony calls in ficland. ;)**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Hello!**_

_**I think I responded to all who reviewed the last chapter but I've gotta say that I was having 'issues' with those freaking pop up ads! Arghhhhhh. So sorry if I didn't and accept my sincere apologies!**_

_**Thanks to Scousemuz1k for beta-ing...again I fiddled after all her hard work. *hangs head* :)**_

_**Love you all**_

_**Cheeks**_

_**xx**_

* * *

The local cops still milled around outside; they were probably more than a little shell-shocked as to what had happened in their safe community, and their blue and red flashing lights threw an eerie glow into the night sky.

The house was also thrumming with activity as cops secured the various scenes until NCIS could get agents down to start processing what had happened here tonight.

Gibbs stared out of the window as he numbly thanked the doctor. A car pulled up outside just as he flipped his cell shut with a loud snap.

He ran a hand over his face.

"What did the hospital say?" Vance appeared at his side, his voice registering a tightness that revealed how concerned he was.

That wasn't surprising.

The last time they had seen DiNozzo he'd been covered in wires and tubes and surrounded by shouting EMTs as they raced him into the ambulance.

Gibbs shut his eyes tightly and rolled his neck from left to right to ease the tension in his shoulders. He should have gone to the hospital with his agent, but realistically he knew that there was nothing he could do there except wait, and there was way too much going on.

Out back resembled the body farm at Quantico with the number of corpses littering the woods. And although the case was very much closed with the death of all the antagonists it didn't mean that they could sit back and rest on their laurels.

They needed to get a clear picture of what happened tonight if only to make sure DiNozzo didn't get hit with a charge of excessive force by NCIS' Internal Affairs because snapping someone's neck wasn't exactly on the agency's accepted method of dispatch; neither was shooting a perp in the genitals. Thankfully the girl had already given them an account of what had happened and he had to admit that throwing rocks at Special agent Acker had been an ingenious distraction; Gibbs had to remember that one next time he was in a bind with no weapon. Her detailed description had filled in the blanks and pretty much gone the full way to exonerate DiNozzo. He'd done what he'd had to do because of circumstance. They had the girl's account of what was said in the house and there was no doubt that the three men hadn't followed DiNozzo out into the woods to offer him a martini.

Even a moron would know that after hearing the details, but often the suits at NCIS got fired up and decided to make an example of an agent, and considering the stink this case would cause there was every chance that would happen.

Not if he could help it.

There was no way Gibbs was going to let Vance throw Tony under the bus this time as he had in Israel over Rifkin, but he suspected something had changed over the past few weeks. The director seemed to have actually finally 'seen' the real agent behind all the layers of deflecting bullshit DiNozzo cloaked himself in.

"McGee and Ziva have just arrived," Gibbs said absently; Vance's question about DiNozzo floating in the air, ignored for now.

Watching through the window he saw his team look nervously at the coroners van parked outside as they passed.

He rolled his shoulders again as Ziva and McGee both flew into the house and it was clear they were searching the room for their colleague. The disappointment was evident when they didn't see DiNozzo, the unanswered question in their eyes.

McGee was the one to put it into words.

"Where's Tony? He's not…I mean he's okay, right, Boss?"

Looking across the room Gibbs glanced at the little girl as she perched on the edge of the couch next to a female officer; thank God after gentle questioning they'd learned that DiNozzo had crashed the perverted tea party before the little girl could be molested. From what she had innocently revealed, the Senator had been grooming her for weeks, but it looked like tonight was the night they were all going to close the deal.

Thanks to Tony that hadn't happened.

Gibbs knew that DiNozzo would consider the fact he'd stopped Grey and co from hurting the girl the main result, and would take everything else as a hazard of the job. It didn't make it any easier to for _him_ to take though. They'd been here way too many times now, DiNozzo had to stop acting first and thinking after.

Imee was sipping from a large cardboard cup of hot chocolate that had appeared from somewhere. She didn't seem any the worse for wear after her adventures; in fact she seemed to glow under all the praise heaped on her for her actions. The local cops were spoiling her whilst she waited for her mom to arrive from Washington. In fact Vance was already talking about some kind of bravery award for the child, and Gibbs had to agree.

The girl lifted her head and smiled shyly at him, Gibbs smiled back.

"Boss?" McGee voice broke through his thoughts. They were all looking at him as if he were losing his mind. Perhaps he was.

"Where's Tony?" Ziva asked.

Shaking himself out of the fogs that were tugging him down, Gibbs took a breath.

"He's fine, Tim, he's at the hospital getting checked out," he stated flatly.

Vance raised an eyebrow and stared at him for a few seconds before he jumped in and started giving the two agents a brief description of what had happened.

Gibbs left him to it and walked over to the couch. The cop shifted to give him more space, and Imee beamed at him as he sat down.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," Imee said shyly.

"Good coffee?" he asked.

"No, silly," she giggled. "It's chocolate."

Gibbs felt his heart tug as she looked up at him with a milky brown moustache gracing her top lip. He'd seen that expression a million times before in a different time and place.

"How you doing?"

"Okay, my mom's coming soon." Imee gave a big yawn that split her face in two. "We're going to stay in a hotel and Director Vance told me that I can charge films to the room as often as I like and I can order whatever I like off the room service menu, no matter how much it costs!"

Imee's excitement spoke of a little girl who'd never stayed in a hotel before but even her pleasure at the thought couldn't chase away her tiredness. It had been a long night and she was up way past her bedtime.

She gave another huge yawn.

"As an honorary NCIS agent you get to splurge on the company credit card," Gibbs stated. Leon had obviously been sucked into the girl's vortex with the rest of them.

"And he said I could have a tour of the Navy Yard and I'm going to go home in a helicopter!" Imee looked up and beamed sleepily.

"Wow," he leaned close and whispered. "Even I haven't had the tour."

He started to tell her what to expect, promising that Abby would let her do some tests in her lab. Halfway through him telling Imee about one of Tony's practical jokes on McGee she slouched further into the couch and her eyes started to slide shut. In seconds she was asleep.

Gibbs took the cup from her hands and turned to the cop.

"Get a blanket."

The cop jumped up and scurried out of the room. Gibbs moved Imee so her head was resting on the arm of the couch and eased a cushion underneath, then stood and lifted her feet so she could sprawl out.

A blanket appeared and he took it without looking up and tucked it around the little girl. He stroked her cheek.

"Sweet dreams."

He hoped that would be true with all she'd seen.

"She's out for the count," Vance whispered. "Not surprised, been quite a night for her."

Gibbs stood.

"Why did you lie to McGee and David?" Vance asked.

"Because they need to have clear heads and worrying about DiNozzo now wont help," he stated simply. "I'll tell them when we've finished here."

"So, how is he really?"

"How do you think, you saw him," Gibbs huffed out.

Looking down at Imee he shut his eyes briefly and softened his tone. "Where do I start? He's got a fractured skull, needs surgery to realign the bone but they can't do that until they get his temperature up and they're worried about frostbite and are trying to save his fingers and they are worried about pneumonia which given the state of his already scared lungs could be fatal."

The director sighed.

Imee snuffled and shifted, her thumb making its way into her mouth. They both silently watched the girl, using her as a distraction from the subject just discussed.

"Does SecNav know you're using Navy helos as a taxi service?" Gibbs asked.

"For such a passenger, even he couldn't say no."

"You didn't tell him." Gibbs snorted.

"Nope." Vance unwrapped a piece of gum and folded it into his mouth. "What's the prognosis on DiNozzo?"

"The next 24 hours will be crucial but they're quietly optimistic. Doc said that if it had been a closed head injury then he'd probably have died hours ago. He had a clot on his brain, but because the bone shifted it relieved the pressure; they're not sure at this stage what damage, if any was done."

"You worried?" Vance stared hard.

"Nah, DiNozzo's tough," Gibbs shook his head. He reached down and pulled the blanket up around Imee's shoulders. Satisfied, he turned and walked away.

He chose to ignore Vance's muttered statement and went in search of McGee and Ziva.

"I take that as a yes, Jethro."

* * *

They had worked in silence, each going about their normal routine.

Eventually she couldn't stand it any longer. Ziva was curious, part of her wanted to believe Gibbs but a bigger part of her was concerned. Tony had taken on three people and they had all ended up dead; by the law of averages he must have been injured.

But then again Gibbs would not lie about something like that. Would he?

"You are worried," Ziva said, as she ducked under the protective shelter that had been erected in the clearing and walked around Senator Reinhart's body.

McGee paused, the camera still raised.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm worried."

"Why? Gibbs said Tony was just getting checked out. Why would he lie?"

McGee lowered the camera and refused to look her in the eye. Instead he seemed focused on wiping the snow from the flash. Just when she thought he wasn't going to answer, he did.

His voice sounded odd, way too young for some reason.

"I don't know," McGee shrugged.

"So why are you so concerned?" Ziva asked.

"Because the last time I saw Gibbs acting like this was when Kate died, Ziva."

McGee looked up at her, then without elaborating further he returned to shooting the body.

* * *

Gibbs zipped up his coat as he stalked up the garden towards the woods.

He knew his head wasn't in the game.

Too many things were crowding it.

Quietly confidant. What the hell did that mean anyway? All he knew was his agent and friend needed urgent surgery to rebuild his skull, and that prospect didn't sit well with him.

If he'd been in charge then things would have been a lot different, and it wasn't just about being a control freak. For one DiNozzo would have had adequate back up so he wouldn't have felt he'd had no choice but to go into a house even though he must have known it would end badly.

It had been a fuck up from start to finish.

This was about Tony, first and foremost. This was about Tony being used as a commodity, _again,_ and to hell with how the end result affected him.

Gibbs had seen first hand how much this assignment had screwed with DiNozzo's brain. He may have had the best skills for the job but anyone who knew him would have known that emotionally he was not a good fit for it.

A tangle of bramble snagged his foot and made him stumble.

Arc lights had been set up to illuminate the area and as he straightened Gibbs noticed something fluttering in his eye line to the left of him.

He made his way over to the snarl of foliage and crouched down, intrigued.

At first he thought a stray latex glove had got snagged on a thorn but looking closer he saw that it had been tightly knotted around the branch.

Someone had wanted to mark this spot.

DiNozzo, it must have been.

But why?

Looking downwards he scooped the snow away with his hand. The ground had been recently disturbed.

He removed his thermal gloves and pulled on a latex pair in their place. Pulling his knife out if his pocket he gave an experimental prod with the tip; the dirt here was definitely loose unlike the surrounding compacted earth.

Getting bolder, he used his hands to pull the soil away – it was cold but the smell of rotting flesh was unmistakable. With a sense of dread and renewed purpose he worked swiftly but carefully.

Briefly looking back down towards the house at the crunch of footsteps, he saw Vance and the SecNav approaching. Gibbs wondered how long it would take for him to turn up and start throwing his weight around.

Ignoring them, he turned back to his task. With his heart beating faster, he carefully shoveled the dirt to the side.

With the barest touch he brushed the soil away from the decaying form.

Tangled blond hair gradually appeared along with what looked to be an embroidered pink corduroy dress.

Sadness and despair so palpable seemed to radiate up from the shallow grave and seemed to permeate the frigid night air. Gibbs swore there and then that if they found out that anyone else was involved in this case then he would personally make sure that they would never, ever go near another child again.

It never got easier, finding dead children, and the intense anger he felt gripped him as tightly as it always did.

Gibbs sat back on his heels and cradled the back of his head against his hands.

"What have you found?" Vance crouched down.

Gibbs didn't say anything; he let the little girl's corpse speak for itself.

"Shit," The SecNav's face appeared over Vance's shoulder. He gave a shocked curse and turning green he spun around.

Vance sighed and joined in on the curse.

"DiNozzo found her, he marked the site, that's the real reason he didn't leave Imee alone while he called for backup. Added to the very real danger of molestation, he certainly wouldn't have risked leaving her after finding this."

"Yeah, yeah that makes sense," Leon said wearily as he stared down at the little girl's corpse.

"We need to get a team up here." Gibbs got up. "We need to find out who she was."

"I'll inform Dr. Mallard when he gets here," Vance added.

"This is great," a voice cut in their conversation.

Gibbs turned and stared at the SecNav, as did Vance.

The anger he was feeling rose up a notch as he stared at the smug face in front of him.

"Exactly what part of this child's death is 'great'?" Gibbs spat out.

"I mean, this totally exonerates us from any wrongdoing!" The SecNav pulled out a cigar and clipped the end off. He beamed brightly. "This ties it all up in a nice neat bow, gives Special Agent DiNozzo just cause for what happened and makes us look great in the press. This is fabulous. Really, this couldn't be better."

Gibbs was sure that Vance knew what he was about to do and the look Leon gave said 'go for it'.

The wet sound of fist hitting jaw was very satisfying.

It was totally worth the reprimand he was going to get for punching the Secretary of the Navy. He nodded to Vance and went off to find McGee and Ziva feeling better than he had all evening.

**TBC**

**Candy to all who review. :)**

**I know this chapter was DiNozzo lite but I needed to set up the next part of the story...yup...this part maybe over but now we have the 'aftermath' to get through!**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Thanks for being paitent! Sorry this was a long time coming but life is hectic at the moment.**_

_**Thanks for all the mails and lovely reviews and big snogs to Scousemuz1K for being rather lovely and beta-ing this for me.**_

_**Love you all**_

_**Cheeks**_

_**xx**_

* * *

Gibbs' knuckles were giving him a pleasant burn. He lowered himself down on the stairs in commander Grey's house and flexed his hand, rubbing the puffy redness with the pad of his thumb.

Not the cleverest thing he'd ever done but by Christ it had felt good.

Leaning to the side, he rested his head against the wall and shut his eyes.

His body willed him to get some sleep but Gibbs' brain wasn't having any of it. Too many thoughts were zigzagging around inside his head and he knew he wouldn't rest easy until he heard back from the hospital.

Opening his eyes he checked his watch again and flipped open his cell to check that the damn thing hadn't turned itself off.

He'd been categorically told that if DiNozzo's condition changed then he would be the first to know. Pissing everyone off on the floor wouldn't achieve anything even though that was his forte.

The display shone back at him brightly, he almost wished that the cell _had_ turned itself off because that would have given him the excuse to call.

Sighing, Gibbs snapped his phone shut and shoved it back in his pocket. He shut his eyes again and tried to be patient, because no call meant DiNozzo was fighting and he expected no less. Tony was one of the most tenacious men he knew, and even though that particular trait drove him nuts more often than not Gibbs thanked God the characteristic was so prevalent in his friend. Hell, if Tony hadn't been such a fighter then he wouldn't have beaten the eighty-five percent mortality rate that came along with the pneumonic plague.

So not hearing anything was definitely a good thing but it was still taking every ounce of his self-control to not break and call the ER to check on the status of his agent.

"Imee has just left for the hotel with her mom."

Gibbs looked up.

Vance loomed over him and held out a bag of frozen peas.

"Here. The local police took deep exception to the SecNav, which was pretty impressive considering he was here for less than an hour. This is a gift from the chief, I think he may want to hold you a parade."

Gibbs snorted out a tired laugh.

"A parade would be good but I doubt SecNav will be throwing any ticker tape." He wrapped the bag around his hand. "So, do I still have a job?"

"Just…only just, Jethro," Vance smiled wryly and sat down on the same step. "I think you hurt his pride along with his jaw, and boy he did he want to make an example of you. He didn't know quite how to react though, when I told him that if you hadn't hit him then I would have. I eventually talked him down to a weeks suspension and I know you're not going to like it…"

Vance leaned against the balustrade and looked as tired as he felt

Gibbs sighed and nodded. "Okay, hit me with it."

"You and your team don't get to investigate any further." Vance continued.

"What! No! That's a crock of shit, Leon. DiNozzo didn't go through all this only to have us hand over the case to another team!" Gibbs sat up straight.

"Look, it had to be something that he knew would piss you off, you're lucky you got off that lightly!" Vance raised his voice.

"Well, you're damn right that I'm pissed." Gibbs all but yelled. "Jesus, Leon, remember that DiNozzo is only in this mess due to your inability to provide him with adequate back up. I don't give a shit about what you do to me but you owe it to him to let us see this through."

"It wasn't supposed to be a dangerous op!" Vance snapped.

"Tell that to DiNozzo. Oh wait, you can't because he's currently having surgery to remove bits of skull from his brain." Gibbs snapped back.

Jimmy Palmer was in the process of moving a gurney through the hall. He tried to be as unobtrusive as possible considering who the two men were; then they started arguing and he panicked. What to do? He paused and looked from one man to the other like a deer caught in the headlights, and although it wasn't intentional he couldn't help but overhear the conversation, seeing that both men were shouting.

His gut clenched painfully.

What?

Brain surgery?

That wasn't right; hadn't Ziva assured him that Tony was okay?

"Hey! Calm down or you'll wish I _had _fired you, Special Agent Gibbs!" Vance continued, his voice bouncing off the walls and he suddenly swung his head towards where the ME's assistant stood rooted to the spot watching the two men as they argued. "And you move, Palmer, this is a private conversation."

Jimmy blinked in terror as two pairs of angry eyes turned his way. He tried to scurry off quickly but in his haste the wheels of the gurney got jammed against the frame of the front door. Frantically he shoved the gurney again and again, trying to get the body through the open space.

"S-Sorry, um…I'll be just a moment," Jimmy stuttered as he continued to panic and continued to try and force the gurney through the wall instead of the door. He gave a hard push and the body started to slide off the smooth, cold surface. He quickly grabbed the body bag and his knees buckled at the weight of the corpse. "Woops-a-daisy, um… just a second and I'll be gone."

It was like watching a farce. Eventually with the body replaced and the gurney repositioned, Jimmy made it through the door.

Gibbs turned and stared at Vance.

Vance stared back.

Mexican stand off time.

Neither wanting to back down.

Gibbs was just about to open his mouth when there was a loud crash and a curse from outside.

Vance raised his eyes skywards and shook his head. He opened his mouth and yelled.

"_Mister_ Palmer, get that damn body out of here!"

"Yes, Sir, sorry Sir." Jimmy called out sounding breathless.

Gibbs would bet good money that he was manhandling the body again.

When Vance looked his way again the look of anger was replaced by a big grin as he started to laugh.

The fury Gibbs felt dissipated and he couldn't help but join in; it was the early hours of the morning and he was just too damn tired for drama.

"That boy is a walking disaster." Vance chuckled.

"You know that DiNozzo calls him 'The Autopsy Gremlin'."

"Do I even want to know what he calls me?" Vance snorted.

Gibbs grinned and said slyly, "The Toothpick."

"Ahhh, that's where that little gem came from, I should have known," Vance smiled ruefully. "I've got to say I've been called a lot worse."

Gibbs dumped the bag of peas down on the step next to him and shook the condensation from the plastic from his hand; he stared straight at Vance's face.

"The team owe it to DiNozzo to follow up on this case, Leon, seeing that he can't right now," he said calmly, even though his gut took the elevator downwards just thinking about why DiNozzo wouldn't be able to see this assignment through to the end.

"Jethro," Vance interjected.

"At least let McGee and Abby process Grey's computer. Hell, suspend me for a month without pay instead." Gibbs pleaded and he didn't do that often or lightly.

Vance sighed.

"Jethro, if you'd let me finish before going postal on me I was trying to tell you that what I knew, but the SecNav didn't, was the fact that the FBI are taking over the case from here on in as a continuation of operation 'Ruby Slipper' and before you say anything I can't do anything about that. Trust me, I already tried but the involvement of the Senator has turned this into a political time bomb and the FBI have jurisdiction over that."

Gibbs ran his tongue over his lips feeling more than a little stupid. This case meant a lot to Leon and he should have known he wouldn't float them down the river on this one.

"It does make sense; they have the manpower and the resources to be able to throw everything at this. It also means that once everything is cleared up here your team can have some downtime. I've taken them off rotation for a week to coincide with your suspension and if SecNav doesn't like it he can shove his complaints where the sun doesn't shine." Vance rooted in his pocket and triumphantly pulled out a pick. Unwrapping the paper, he shoved it in the side of his mouth.

"Sorry, it's been a long night. …" Gibbs said thinking about DiNozzo. He'd yet to fill the team in and he knew they wouldn't be happy about leaving their colleague alone whilst they went back to Washington. Reports could be done wherever and there were enough junior agents wandering around who could take equipment and evidence boxes back to the yard. "Off rotation, does that mean…"

"It means they can do what the hell they like for a week. Just make sure they fill in their timesheets to say that they've been working on cold-cases to keep the bean-counters happy and I'll turn a blind eye." Vance winced as he got up and stretched his back and neck. "I really can't cope with these all-nighters anymore. I'm getting old."

Gibbs stood up too.

"Thank you, Leon, I mean that."

"I'm going to head for the hospital and you need to be honest with your team and tell them about DiNozzo, although I suspect that Palmer might have already got the jump on that one for you," Vance said pointedly as he nodded and walked away.

Gibbs picked up the bag of peas from the step.

This was one conversation he was not looking forward to, but the benefits of acting the bastard boss was that one glare was usually enough to shut down any revolt in the ranks.

* * *

"Mr. DiNozzo? , are you with us?"

Pain screamed through every part of his body. His head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice and his hands and fingers burned with an intensity that took his breath away.

He could sense many people moving around him, could hear harried voices. Hands touched different his body and he tried to pull away.

Oh God.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this bad. He was sure if he were a dog they would have put him down and that pain told him this was no dream.

"Mr. DiNozzo."

The annoying voice was back.

"We are just going to administer the anesthetic. I know it's all a bit scary now but we'll soon get you fixed up."

Great, the one thing he hated more than being woken up to be told that they were going to put you to sleep was the tone of voice some doctors used when you were in the ER. He wasn't five so why the hell was this guy speaking to him as if he was.

Was he scared?

No. Scared was staring down the barrel of a Sig Sauer, scary was running out of a building as a timer counted down from five to four seconds, scary was tonguing a post op transsexual without knowing whilst he/she fondled your fun-zone. Nope, someone injecting a bunch of drugs into the back of your hand was not remotely scary.

So what if he couldn't quite remember why he needed surgery, he didn't much care because artificial oblivion sounded really, really good right now even if it meant getting cut open to achieve it. Pretty much every part of his body pulsated with a red-hot agony and he was definitely up for being pumped full of tranquilizers and anesthetics if it meant he no longer felt like he was being attacked by fire ants.

"Can you hear me, Mr. DiNozzo?"

'Yeah, stop shouting and leave me the fuck alone' his brain screamed as someone peeled his eyelids up and a blinding light pierced through each of his retinas in turn.

"He's still unresponsive, people, let's get him under and get rid of this clot," a voice called.

Hey, he was responding, it wasn't his fault that they couldn't read his mind.

Tony felt a strange warm feeling swiftly traveling up his arm and everything started to get a little more freaky and fuzzy around the edges. He swallowed hard as he was turned on his side and everything faded.

* * *

Gibbs hunkered further down on one of the cracked brown leatherette chairs that lined the hospital waiting room and wrapped his arms around his chest.

He may have been tired but he was still to wired to sleep.

McGee and Ziva were sitting opposite him, watching an old documentary on Egypt that dated from the seventies if the lurid winged collared shirt and safari suit combo the narrator wore was any indication. The TV was bolted high on the wall to ensure that all who watched for more than five minutes would need to make an appointment with a chiropractor.

They weren't the only occupants of the room. A family sat in the far corner, in a desolate knot. Father, mother and maybe a sister but Gibbs suspected girlfriend. She was a pretty brunette, Gibbs watched her as she sat silently crying and wiping her nose on a torn tissue. She was holding an infant close to her chest; the baby was sound asleep, pacifier in mouth, hand clutching a sippy cup.

Gibbs caught the father's eye. From what he could gather their son had been shipped back from Afghanistan and it didn't look good. He looked away; not liking the bleakness he saw but suspected was also mirrored in his own eyes.

On the television a curator of a museum somewhere was going into raptures over some Lapis Lazuli urns unearthed from a tomb.

The door to the waiting room opened making the occupants of the rooms look up expectantly.

They all turned their heads to see whom the news was for. The girl clutched the infant just that little bit tighter.

Jimmy Palmer's face appeared.

"How is he?" Gibbs was on his feet in an instant.

"I don't really know. Dr. Mallard is talking to the surgeon now but he sent me down to tell you that they're moving Tony out of recovery and into the critical care unit; there's no visiting but Dr. Mallard persuaded Tony's doctor to let you stand by the door for a few minutes as long as you don't interrupt."

Gibbs nodded and moved towards the door. He turned when he realized that he wasn't being followed.

"Well c'mon if you want to see DiNozzo," he said patiently to the two agents. They both leapt up with twin looks of astonishment on their faces at the unexpected invitation.

He wasn't _that_ much of a bastard, occasionally he liked to throw them a bone and he figured that this would make up for not being one-hundred percent honest about Tony's injuries from the beginning.

Palmer led the way and eventually stopped outside a large room; he stepped aside with a flourish. The door was open and the room thrummed with so much activity it was hard to actually see where DiNozzo ended and the medical staff started.

Ducky looked up and quickly finished his conversation with one of the doctors. He walked over and spoke softly to them all.

"You'll be pleased to hear that Anthony has come through surgery splendidly," Ducky paused.

"But…" Gibbs responded because this level of activity post –op didn't bode well as far as he was concerned.

"He is going to be okay?" Ziva swallowed hard, her usual nonchalant demeanor cracked under the pressure of the lack of sleep and worry.

"My dear, he is doing remarkably well under the circumstances." Ducky reached out and patted her arm.

"What the hell does that mean? Is he going to be okay or not?" Gibbs growled crankily as he looked past Ducky's shoulder at his agent at where people were attaching machinery and electrodes to every exposed part of DiNozzo's body. He didn't like the fact that he was still unconscious either.

"The surgeons successfully removed a clot and repaired the fracture to Anthony's skull; they also repaired some minor muscle damage to his leg, there was glass embedded in the tissue so the injury corresponds with your initial suspicions that Anthony jumped through the glass patio doors, Jethro."

Ducky paused again and took in a breath.

"There is concern regarding Anthony's hands. He sustained third degree congelatio…"

"Frostbite…" McGee muttered, he'd already trolled the Internet for any medical knowledge he thought pertinent regarding what the weather conditions might have thrown at his partner.

"Indeed, you are correct, Timothy." Ducky looked surprised.

"How bad?" Gibbs asked.

"In extreme cases tissue damage escalates and gangrene can set in. If that happens then I'm afraid amputation may be the only option," Ducky said solemnly, the implication of what he had just said was clear on his face.

Gibbs shut his eyes briefly; it felt like someone cut the brake cable on his stomach as it plummeted. Tony could kiss goodbye to his career in the field if he lost his fingers. He wouldn't wish that on anyone but he knew that a disability like that would totally devastate someone like DiNozzo and he knew he wasn't the only person thinking along the same lines. McGee had inhaled sharply, Ziva tensed and Palmer nervously chewed on his thumbnail.

Gibbs bit his tongue and didn't comment and they all studiously kept their focus on Ducky as he continued to speak.

"But as I said, in extreme cases only and although there is a concern, Anthony is being monitored very carefully. That was one of the main reasons it took so long to get him into surgery, the team worked hard to minimize the damage and now it's a matter of waiting." Ducky said positively but it didn't help lessen the concern.

"What about any other effects of the hypothermia?" Gibbs looked over to where a doctor was placing a tight oxygen mask over Tony's face.

"They have started him on a combination of topical antibiotics. His lungs are unfortunately showing signs of congestion already but that is to be expected given his past problems. Again thankfully he received medical attention fairly swiftly and that will hopefully minimize the risk. Unfortunately they need to keep him sedated for now to give the swelling in his brain time to subside and that is not ideal considering the congestion in his lungs but it's a case of the devil or the deep blue now."

Ducky looked over his shoulder.

"The next twenty-four hours will be crucial and he'll be monitored around the clock but he's a fit young man and let me remind you of Anthony's unique propensity for worrying us all unduly and coming out the other end with a pithy and often crass pun."

"You got that right, Duck," Gibbs snorted. "We've been here way too often,"

"I remember Abby saying when Tony ended up in hospital last year that she was going to permanently swathe him in bubble wrap, " McGee raised a brow. This time she hadn't joked, in fact she had gone so silent after he'd broken the news that he'd had to call on one of the girls in evidence to go and check on her after the call had ended.

Ducky smiled wearily at the comment.

"That might be prudent as he does seem to have a knack for getting himself in a pickle. What I'm trying to say is although Anthony is not out of the woods yet he has already come a long way and I have every faith that he will continue to improve, so I suggest we all take advantage of the fact that Anthony is sedated and not likely to wake to convene to the hotel for a few hours sleep and let these good people look after our friend."

Gibbs let out the breath he'd been holding. The news wasn't good but it could be worse. He clung onto that thought.

"I'm going to stay," Ziva folded her arms.

"Me too," Palmer moved next to Ziva in solidarity. McGee nodded in agreement.

Gibbs looked across at Ducky, then back at his team plus one. He had to stifle a smile.

They were like kids waiting to hear if they could stay up late. Well sometimes kids needed the voice of reason from an adult.

"Hotel now. Not much help to DiNozzo if we are all on our knees."

Gibbs could understand why they wanted to stay but Ducky was right, they all needed to get some proper rest. Across the room the doctors were covering Tony with blankets and injecting drugs into the IV bags hanging above his head. Duck was right. DiNozzo was totally out of it and would be for hours. As much as Gibbs wanted to stay it made sense to grab some rest while they could. He knew Ducky well enough to be able to read the Scot, although he could see concern there but the tight anxiety of a few hours ago had mostly left the ME's eyes telling him that DiNozzo's first major hurdle was over.

"Agreed," Ducky said firmly. "The hotel is less than a ten-minute drive away from here."

"But…" McGee started.

"If there is any change in Anthony's condition we can be here in less than five-minutes with Jethro's driving. We all need some sleep, sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room for hours will not help our friend any, now will it?" Ducky said calmly.

"No, I am going to stay." Ziva said firmly.

"Do I need to remind you that you are still on the clock, what I say goes…. hotel…sleep…eat, then we'll convene back here at thirteen-hundred." Gibbs narrowed his eyes.

Ziva also narrowed her eyes.

"We may be on the clock but _you _have been suspended so technically we don't have to follow your orders," She smiled slyly.

Gibbs stepped up to the group.

"Do you all really want to play that card, Agent David? Do you?" He stared at his agents. McGee swallowed hard. "Because the last time I looked a week was a real short space of time and before you know it I'll be back and who knows what delights I'll find for you and McGee to do around the yard."

Jimmy moved away from the two agents and stood next to his superior causing Ducky to chuckle.

"Wise move Mr. Palmer." The ME whispered and patted his back.

Ziva sighed dramatically and unfolded her arms. McGee's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Thought you'd see it my way." Gibbs smiled broadly and slapped both lightly on the back of the head.

"Lets go, the sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back here."

With one last look at Tony they silently moved away from the door with Ducky ushering them away.

* * *

"Where the hell did that come from?"

Tony muttered as he emptied his bedside locker.

Ten days in hospital and the amount of crap he'd accumulated was quite stunning.

Ziva patiently held open a trash sack for him.

"You are a pig, Tony."

He stuffed used tissues and greetings cards into the bag, along with several rumpled magazines and old apple cores.

"Probie, make sure you get all my stuff out of the bathroom,' he called out.

"You knew you were being released today so why didn't you pack your crap before we arrived?" McGee groused from the adjoining bathroom.

"Hey, I'm an invalid, may I remind you about the six-inch scar across the back of my head," Tony called through the door.

"I think it looks cool!" Abby moved up behind him and stroked the affected area.

"Looks cool! Are you crazy?" Tony pulled his head away from Abby's petting and ran a hand across the sensitive scar. "They shaved the back of my head! I'm never going to get laid looking like this. I mean… I look like Gibbs!"

"Is that right, DiNozzo?" Gibbs swept into the room, coffee cup in hand. "Are you insinuating that I don't get lucky?"

Abby and Ziva both sniggered. McGee's head appeared around the bathroom door to enjoy Tony's obvious discomfort.

"Ummm…." Tony winced and turned. "Of course not, Boss. I'm sure you have the ladies lining up around the block to get a piece of Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

"If you have to rely on your hair to get some action then you've been doing it wrong all these years, DiNozzo." Gibbs smiled broadly and took a slow sip of coffee.

"Well, I like it." Abby stroked the growing stubble on the back of Tony's head again. "You feel like a baby mouse."

"A mouse!" Tony squeaked. "Hey, quit it. I'm a freaking stallion, a stud bull maybe but not a little buck-toothed critter."

Ziva reached over and ran her fingertips against his skull. "Oh, it is soft. I think it's more like a mole."

The door opened and Lesley, the sexy nurse he'd been flirting with for the past week entered. She handed him a bag of meds and fluttered her eyelashes.

"Are your friends comparing you to a small mammal? Because that's not what you've been telling all us ladies, Tony," She responded.

"Sweetheart, you'll be pleased to know I definitely have more in common with a stallion than a mouse or mole." Tony leered.

"Honey, never brag to the person who inserted your catheter." Nurse Lesley winked.

McGee snorted loudly.

"Hey, I was cold…I had hypothermia remember!" Tony spluttered as he grabbed the paper bag of drugs. He looked around the room. "You know she's joking, right!"

"Sure she is, DiNozzo." Gibbs picked off a grape from the fruit bowl that sat on the side and stuffed it in his mouth.

"But…" Tony protested.

"Oh trust me, Honey, you definitely redeemed yourself in that particular department even if you scarred our junior nurses for life. One is refusing to give another bed bath as long as she lives. Tell me, do you always have such a reaction to opiates or should we all be flattered on this floor?" Lesley laughed.

Abby perked up, as did Ziva.

Tony flushed a bright beet red.

"What's this? Bed baths? Tell us more?" Abby sidled up to the nurse.

"Hey…no…don't you nurses have to follow the Hippocratic oath or patient confidentiality or something!" Tony yelped.

Lesley _very _slowly shook her head.

"Nope. Abby, I have that book you wanted in my locker if you care to join me," The nurse held out her arm and Abby linked her own arm through it. They headed for the door.

Ziva scuttled over.

"I think I may need a walk too," she gave a pointed look towards Tony and grinned.

"Boss! Say something!" Tony pleaded.

"Ziva…Abs…" He barked as they reached the door.

Tony beamed smugly at the reprimand it quickly vanished when a look of feral mischievousness crossed Gibbs face.

"I want a full Sitrep when you get back."

* * *

Tony stretched out on his couch, covered in several thick blankets, care of Muriel, his neighbor.

His meds were laid out with military precision, along with bottles of Gatorade, sodas and enough snacks to feed an army because according to Muriel he had lost weight and 'was as scraggy as a plucked chicken' now.

Picking up the first bottle he shook two capsules into his palm, he moved onto the next, then the next, and the next until he had a handful of brightly colored tablets.

Stuffing them into his mouth he winced, they may have looked like Skittles but they sure didn't taste like them as an acrid bitterness flooded against his tongue. He quickly twisted the cap on a soda and swallowed the tablets down with half the bottle, belching loudly as the bubbles fought back. Putting the soda back down on the table he lay down, pulling a cushion under his head. It was good to be alone. No nurses poking and prodding him, as much as he'd enjoyed flirting with them the constant coming and going in his room had palled after a couple of days and as much as he loved his team he was relieved when they finally returned to work. Now he was home and under strict instructions from Ducky to rest.

Yeah, like that was going to be a problem.

He barely had enough energy to walk to the bathroom and back.

Yawning, he pulled the blankets around his body and curled up as much as he could on the couch.

Sleep hit without him even trying.

When he awoke it was dark and he had a crick in his neck. He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair then spent a good few minutes scratching his hands. They still itched like a bitch, the redness and swelling had lessened as the days had passed but he was still feeling the effects of the frostbite to his fingers. But he couldn't complain even though the itch drove him nuts because at least he still had all his digits. He still broke out in a sweat thinking about how close he'd come to losing his fingers.

Unfurling himself from the cocoon of blankets twisted around his body he picked up a note that was prominently propped up against his meds.

'_Tony, _

_Stew warming in the oven, didn't want to wake you, make sure you take your tablets then eat!_

_Love_

Muriel

_xx'_

He smiled and went in search of his dinner…. checking his watch he revised that at the lateness of the hour…definitely counted as supper at nine-thirty. Yet again, he'd slept most of the day away. These days he felt like a bear in hibernation, as all he seemed to do was sleep.

He wasn't really that hungry to be honest but he knew that the formidable Muriel was capable of calling Ducky if he didn't follow her orders.

Opening the oven he sniffed as the aroma of savory beef wafted up from the covered plate. An old-fashioned oven glove in the shape of a highland cow that sat on the side certainly wasn't his, but he took advantage, lifted the plate and carefully carried it back to the couch.

One mouthful had him taking the skin off the roof of his mouth. He opened his mouth and sucked and blew air in, to try and cool the molten mouthful before swallowing.

Pushing the stew away to cool he pulled his laptop over in front of him.

He hadn't checked his mails since he'd been away and he deleted a ton of spam before he started reading the good stuff. There were several mails from Abby even though she must have known he wouldn't be checking his personal inbox while on assignment, she always did the same, said it made everything 'normal' when he wasn't there. He read them with a smile on his face as he swigged down his next round of tablets.

Then he moved onto the mails from fellow agents at the yard. It was always the same, the system was monitored at work for language and content so when any shit went down then they all moved onto private mail so they could all say what they really wanted to say.

Most were congratulating him on offing Special Agent Acker. The general consensus had been that the guy was a 'wanker' and wouldn't be missed.

He tried to take it as it was intended; cops and people in law enforcement had a gallows sense of humor, joking and being crude about subjects that would leave other people shocked. Hell, he did the same all the time. It helped scare the bogymen away but it didn't make it any easier.

Killing someone wasn't something he relished, no matter how much of a bastard they'd been, but he always acted like it was no big deal even though it was because dwelling on it would just drive you over the edge.

Then the mails started to change.

Again, he knew people were trying to be funny but he was really not getting the joke this time.

Several agents had sent him pictures and comments about the assignment.

Women in their twenties dressed up as school kids posing coyly for the camera, twirling pigtails and licking on lollipops. Several agents made comments about his dating habits and the fact that he went out with women younger than himself, and then there were the endless jokes about pedophiles.

He could feel himself getting tenser and tenser as he read.

It really shouldn't have gotten to him but it did.

He liked and respected the agents who were mailing him. And he knew it was just a case of obviously trying to lighten his mood after such a disturbing op.

It was just that he wasn't ready to laugh this off as a joke.

Didn't think he'd ever be able to think of what he'd done or seen as something to laugh about.

His views had changed over the past few months and he knew that he'd never joke about Catholic schoolgirl uniforms again.

It made him sick now.

And the dead girl buried in the woods, fodder for sick perverts, wouldn't let him see these mails as a joke.

Imee certainly wouldn't be laughing for a long time after all she'd been through.

He slammed down the lid of his laptop and slumped back against the back of the couch. His stew sat forgotten and congealing on the table in front of him.

He wasn't remotely hungry now. The tablets and the e-mails had turned the contents of his stomach into a sour mix that was threatening to make a reappearance.

Everything he'd tried to ignore since he'd woken up in hospital was coming to the surface.

All the unpleasantness had been pushed down, and he hadn't allowed himself to think about it all because there had been too many people around.

Now his brain was in overdrive.

And he didn't think he could push it all away again.

Not this time.

**TBC**

**Cake and love for all who review...the spank fairy for all who don't! :)  
**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. *widens eyes and looks cute* Forgive me!**_

_**Thanks to the wonderful scousemus1K for being fabulous friend and fab beta. xx**_

_**And lastly to all my American chums, have a splendid Thankgiving. *snogs***_

* * *

"So, Anthony's safely back home I take it?" Ducky asked.

Gibbs ran a hand along one of the empty autopsy slabs.

"Yeah, we got him settled yesterday and left him being mothered by his neighbor. She'll keep him in line." Gibbs' mouth quirked up into a smile at the memory of the bustling woman tucking his agent into a blanket and threatening him with a spanking if he so much as moved from the spot. The fact that Tony took the scolding spoke about how much he respected the no-nonsense woman. "I dropped by to check on him before work but he was sound asleep, didn't even hear me come in, Duck. I think a steam train and a marching band could have passed right by his bed and he wouldn't have woken."

Ducky stripped off his latex gloves and dumped them in the surgical waste bin. He turned off the x-ray boxes and instructed Palmer to sew the chest cavity on the corpse on the table.

"I know Anthony likes to think he is immune to such rigors, but sadly I'm afraid he'll be feeling weak for some time yet. His body has gone through a great deal and that's without adding the emotional effects of the past few months." Ducky sighed. "I'm afraid it has all rather caught up with him."

Gibbs followed Ducky into his office and it didn't escape his notice when the ME shut the door behind them. That only ever happened when the doctor wanted to discuss something confidential or of a delicate nature.

It wasn't like he didn't know what was on the ME's mind. Hell; it was the same thing that had been on _his_ ever since he'd found out the true nature of DiNozzo's assignment.

Ducky looked pensive and stared at the clock on the wall before he eventually opened his mouth. "Have you tried to speak to Anthony, Jethro? I mean really tried speak to him?" he asked.

"Duck…." Gibbs warned.

"The boy is hurting in more ways than one," Ducky said firmly.

"He doesn't need to 'talk', we do the job and we move on. That's how it goes," Gibbs lied.

"Jethro, this was more than just another undercover case, I know you understand that."

Gibbs sighed. He wasn't going to win this one. Ducky wasn't fooled by his fake nonchalance over DiNozzo.

"Look, have you ever had a deep and meaningful conversation in hospital?" Gibbs huffed out a breath. "It's impossible. Every time I opened my mouth a doctor or nurse came in, and if it wasn't the staff interrupting, then it was the visitors. DiNozzo's saying it was just another undercover op. Yeah, he admits that he's relieved it's over but he said it was no big deal."

Ducky looked at Gibbs in disappointment and clucked his tongue in frustration; he knew he was one of the few who could get away with it and live to tell the tale. Gibbs leaned against the wall and waited for the chewing out that he knew was coming.

"Jethro. The implications of immersing himself into the mindset of a pedophile will be impacting on Anthony heavily. More so than I think the lad even realizes, and pretending that this was simply just another job will do him no good in the long run." Ducky sat down behind his desk and swung his chair around to face Gibbs. "He may be acting like the life and soul of the party right now but he's far from okay"

"I know, I know… but he doesn't make it easy, Duck. How the hell do you get through to someone who stonewalls the whole time?" Gibbs folded his arms over his chest. Tony may have bared his soul to him during the op but he was a closed book now.

Ducky pursed his lips.

"That my friend is the conundrum that we will all have to work on solving."

* * *

Tony clicked the TV off and threw the remote down on the couch next to him.

Although it seemed like sacrilege to say it, there was only so much TV a person could watch before it started to scramble your brains.

Five days at home and the walls were well and truly closing in on him; he was bored and frustrated.

The first couple of days home had been kind of nice - mainly because he'd felt like crap - but now he was feeling better Muriel's constant nagging for him to eat and rest was wearing him down, and he had to force himself to smile and take the fussing because it wasn't fair to take out his frustrations on the woman.

He checked his watch. Lunchtime. It wasn't as if he didn't appreciate all the home cooked food, it was just he wasn't used to eating so often; the job usually meant you grabbed on the hoof at strange times and all this regimentation was a little hard to take.

The tap on the door was right on time, but the voice that called out wasn't.

"Tony, you decent?"

"Hey, Frank, not sure I've ever been decent but come in."

The relief Tony felt was huge. He just wasn't used to being mothered, and boy was Muriel going to town.

Frank walked into the room with a covered plate.

"Got to say it's good to see you, Frank."

Frank grinned.

'Let me guess, from the look on your face the old ball and chain is driving you nuts, huh?"

"No, no, not at all." Tony protested.

"Liar. How about I tell her to back off a little? She's just gone into overdrive, I told her that you weren't used to it."

"It's not that I don't appreciate it but…" Tony smiled ruefully.

"But you need a little space now." Frank laughed.

"She ironed my underpants, Frank! That's just wrong." Tony shuddered as he pictured the silver haired woman lovingly pressing steam into the crotch of his boxers.

"Thus spoke like a true bachelor. When you're married you'll get used to such things."

"No offence, Frank… although the thought of a hot blonde manhandling my undergarments is a pleasant one… your wife wielding an iron's the stuff of nightmares. I swear she gets an evil glint in her eye sometimes…"

Tony beamed as Frank handed over the plate. Lifting the foil, he sniffed the aroma of steak pie and veggies. He took the cutlery from the side and rested the plate on his knees.

He was expecting Frank to maybe leave now the delivery of his lunch had been made, but he didn't. Instead he sat down and leaned back, placing his hands over his stomach.

As Tony started to dig in he opened his mouth.

"So, you offed a senator. Impressive." Frank said simply.

Tony looked up in surprise, a fork full of food hovering near his mouth. It wasn't something he'd shared and he knew that Gibbs wouldn't have volunteered any information.

"How did I know? Internal Affairs guys have got a smell about them, and I can spot a fed a mile off." Frank responded. "C'mon Tony, give me some credit. Several long visits from both IA and the FBI coinciding with all the who-ha in the press. Wasn't hard to work out you were the one undercover."

Tony didn't say anything. Frank had it all worked out; he should have known the man's analytical mind would have put all the pieces together. Once a cop, always a cop.

"I knew it was a bad one from the look you had on your face before you went under but hell, even I didn't imagine just how bad," Frank shook his head. "No wonder you look like someone spat you out…wading through the sewers with scum like that."

Tony sighed and carefully placed his knife and fork together on the plate. He slid his meal onto the table. What little appetite he'd had was well and truly gone.

"You did good, Tony, you rid the world of several people who had no right to be walking on God's good earth. Hell, you deserve a medal…damn perverts."

"Frank…" Tony warned softly, letting the man know he really didn't want to get into that particular discussion right now.

"Okay, okay, I can tell from your body language you don't want to talk about it but I just wanted to say I worked that gig for a while in the eighties. I know how hard it is." The ex-cop leaned forward and started to regale him with tales of things he didn't want to hear about.

"Frank…please, not now…." Tony wasn't aware he'd spoken, definitely wasn't aware that he'd pleaded

The old man looked him in the eye. "Sorry, too soon huh. Look Tony, if you need to talk then you know where I am; I suppose that's what I'm trying to say."

Frank pointed at the rapidly cooling food.

"Now eat or I'll sic my wife onto you."

When Tony didn't respond Frank stood as if to leave, then he paused.

"Seriously, don't let it mess with your head, Kid." He patted Tony on the shoulder and gave him a sympathetic smile.

As the door clicked shut Tony got up and picked up his plate.

"It's too late, Frank, too late," he muttered into the empty kitchen. He scraped it into the trashcan and rinsed the dirty dish in his sink.

Going into the spare bedroom he stripped off his tee and threw it down on the bed. Reaching up he grabbed the bar that spanned the doorframe and started a repetition of pull-ups. Allowing his brain to switch off, letting the gradual burn of exercise overtake everything else.

* * *

Tony's car wasn't in his allotted space yet again, the fourth night on the trot. If he were a betting man he'd think that his SFA was avoiding him.

The rest of the team would probably be surprised at just how often the two of them chewed the fat over a meal, be it to discuss a case or just because it beat going home to an empty house. It made him laugh actually, the fact that Tony had the perfect opportunity to play a game of one-upmanship with McGee or Ziva over it but he never did.

Gibbs cursed as he drove away from the apartment; as he idled at the lights he picked up his cell and called DiNozzo.

"Hey Boss." Tony answered cheerfully.

"Just stopped by but you weren't in." Gibbs said gruffly.

"Out on a date with that cute nurse and I've got to say it's good to finally get back on the horse." Tony laughed.

"Did you just call your date a horse, DiNozzo?" Gibbs pulled away from the lights.

"Look I've gotta go, Boss…she's starting to whinny…I think she needs her oats." Gibbs could hear Tony grin down the line.

"Later, DiNozzo." Gibbs snapped his phone shut and threw it on the passenger seat.

Tony was a good liar; one of the best he'd ever known - but the advantage of working with the man for so long was the fact that Gibbs could easily sort the lies from the truth.

Putting together all the clues the call had given him. Gibbs turned the car in a wide circle. Ten minutes later he had reached is his destination and slowly drove along keeping his eyes open.

He hated being right.

Gibbs parked and slowly walked towards the Potomac. It was late, a few joggers ran silently in the dark as the gentle lapping of the water merged with the sound of traffic.

Gibbs stopped by the lone figure and mirrored his stance. The metal railing was cold against his arms as he leaned against the barrier.

"You throw your date in the river?" Gibbs said quietly.

DiNozzo turned, seemingly unsurprised by the intrusion and gave a weary smile.

"Never could fool you, could I?" he said, with no malice that Gibbs had found him.

"Nope." Gibbs replied.

Tony stared for a moment as if contemplating on explaining before he shrugged and turned his gaze back over the water.

Gibbs let his own eyes drift out across the far side of the river.

They stood in silence, letting the gentle sounds of the night become their conversation.

Gibbs now had all the information he needed to know. He didn't need a degree in psychology to work out that the fact that DiNozzo was spending his evenings staring vacantly out into the water wasn't a good thing, and screw all Tony's protestations that it was business as normal.

Gibbs could see that lie was a crock of shit, and now DiNozzo knew he knew it.

* * *

Tony dreaded his first day back, and it was everything he'd expected. The yard was like every other place of work and the gossip trail was the same. Okay the subject matters were usually more hardcore but the tongues still wagged and any salacious cases filtered downwards through the ranks until you felt like a goldfish swimming around a murky bowl.

He wasn't wrong.

It started with the guards on the gate.

Then the security guys who manned the reception entrance at the front of the building stopped him.

Even the post room guys doing their rounds wanted a piece. Admin and the secretarial pool were next. Under normal circumstances he would have loved the attention from the women but the way they cooed, hugged and petted him only made him feel uncomfortable.

All the unanswered questions were there but they clearly didn't know how to ask or if they should and for that Tony was thankful. He didn't want to be their entertainment and he certainly didn't want to talk about the undercover operation because the yard wanted a little titillation.

By the time he got to the elevator the fake smile was pretty much fixed on his face.

Tony nodded to the staff already in there and said a few words but he suspected he was projecting vibes which stopped any further interaction despite the smile. He knew what they were all looking at even if he couldn't see their reflections in the steel but he steadfastly stared at the doors as they traveled upwards.

He tried not to feel self-conscious about the ugly raised scar that bisected the back of his skull. His hair had grown and he'd had it cut so it didn't look as ridiculous as it had after he'd been shaved but he still suspected that he looked like Boo Radley. As the elevator doors opened he forced himself not to bring his hand up towards the back of his head.

Walking onto the floor with his head held high even though he was feeling tense and deflated, he smiled as McGee's head popped up over the partition to their desks, followed by Ziva's. Both grinned at him.

"Tony!" Abby leaped up from behind McGee's desk and launched herself as he approached and hugged him tightly.

"Good you have you back, DiNozzo." Gibbs looked up from where he was reading a file.

"Good to be back, Boss." He wheezed as Abby squeezed.

Once released, he looked at his desk.

"Um…what the hell is that?" Tony yelped.

They all looked over at the effigy that still sat behind his desk.

"Oh, that's Tony ; he kept us company while you were away." Abby explained.

Tony narrowed his eyes.

"He was a lot better behaved than you, DiNozzo, got more work done than you too." Gibbs huffed from behind his monitor.

"Boss…you wound me." Tony shook his head and stared at the God-awful ensemble his doppelganger was wearing.

"I'll wound you more if you don't get your ass behind that desk and start working. Abs, take your little friend with you."

Tony looked over at Gibbs but his boss was smirking.

He picked up the blow-up doll and handed it to Abby. She manhandled it under her arm and dragged it towards the elevator.

"Come see me later, Tony," she called out. "And go easy on him, Gibbs, you can't use a puncture repair kit on the real one."

Tony settled behind his desk and with a satisfied look around the bullpens he fired up his PC and started the arduous task of catching up on his e-mails. Other agents on the floor stopped by intermittently throughout the morning but Gibbs' glares and comments soon chased them away after a few brief words of greeting. He didn't know why Gibbs was doing that as it wasn't like they were busy but he was grateful he was. For a social being he wasn't feeling particularly gregarious; but considering that they all wanted to talk about the senator and the op that wasn't surprising.

Several hours later and he moved on to form filling and now he wasn't so thrilled about returning to work. The place had a form for everything; the backroom boys liked nothing more than wasting agents' time, it seemed, with pointless paper pushing. Hell, they were probably bringing in new legislation that you had to requisition via a triple form if you wanted to use the head. He chuckled to himself and wondered if Ziva would have her own form provided allowing her to enter the men's room.

His desk phone trilled and he picked it up expecting it to be Abby asking why he hadn't been down yet.

"Very Special Agent DiNozzo…here at your service."

"Sir, you have two visitors down here but they aren't on the list so I can't send them up."

Okay, that was intriguing. Couldn't be anyone in law enforcement as they were allowed right up.

"Who is it?" Tony asked aware that Gibbs was ear wigging the conversation.

The security guard gave him the names and his heart took a downward lurch.

Shit, he'd been half expecting it but it didn't make it any easier.

He was tempted to just send them away but he owed it to them.

"Okay, George, I'll be down."

He put his extension down and got up. He'd take the stairs to give himself a moment.

"Problem?" Gibbs' voice broke through his train of thought.

Tony whipped his head up.

"No, Boss. I'll be back in ten."

Gibbs nodded but he didn't go back to his work, instead Tony could feel his eyes following him as he made his way to the stairwell,

Once the fire door had shut behind him, Tony leaned against the wall and took several deep breaths.

He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to figure out what he was going to say but nothing cut it.

This was not going to end well.

He could feel it in his bones and it was no more than he deserved.

**TBC**

**Cake and hugs to all who review. xx :)  
**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Firstly... please join me in sending big love to Scousemuz1K today. We are all thinking of you, Darling and sending good vibes your way.**_

_**Secondly, thanks for all the fabulous comments and reviews. I think I responded to all but FFnet doesn't like to play ball sometimes.**_

_**Love you all and thank you for the continuing support with this story.**_

_**Cheeks**_

_**xx**_

* * *

Tony straightened his shoulders and marched down the stairs towards the foyer of the building.

The two guards were standing by the metal detector, arms folded looking like all their Christmases had come at once.

"I don't envy you, Buddy, they look pissed. You been caught double dipping, huh…" George whispered as he passed.

The other guard sniggered and looked clearly excited by the prospect of a scorned woman showdown. Even the receptionists were looking amused.

Tony ignored them, calmly running his hand down his tie as he walked over to the waiting area. The two women saw him approach and stood up. To be honest he'd fully expected Sarah Reinhart to confront him at some point, after all he'd managed to insert himself into her home and accepted her friendship; and in return he'd torn her world apart.

The other woman, on the other hand, he hadn't been expecting but probably on reflection it really shouldn't have been a surprise. After all, no woman liked to think she'd been used and Ingrid Hohenstein had every right to feel that way after he'd allowed her to blow him purely to maintain his cover. He knew it had been wrong; she'd been like an excitable puppy at his advances and he hadn't wanted to hurt her but you did what you had to when you were undercover. Didn't make it right though and she looked like she wanted to knee him in the balls.

They probably did look like disgruntled girlfriends intent on a confrontation with a wayward boyfriend but he could see a very different picture.

Sarah's eyes were red rimmed through lack of sleep and grief.

Tony tried to steer the two women away from the prying eyes he could feel were boring into his back but he didn't get the chance.

Sarah Reinhart stepped forward and slapped him hard around the face before he could even open his mouth.

His head snapped back even though he'd been expecting it.

Tony heard a titillated gasp behind from one of the receptionists. He quickly turned and silently warned the guards with a shake of his head not to intervene. They paused, unsure then shrugged at him before returning to their posts, but not before he saw the amused smiles on their faces. He couldn't blame them really; he'd revelled in playing the part of a playboy so he only had himself to blame when people assumed that his lifestyle was the perceived problem.

Returning his focus to Sarah he saw that her eyes shone with a fierce determination and he figured that wouldn't be the only blow struck before the meeting was out.

She had been caught up in a nightmare that was not of her making. And although didn't feel any great remorse for the deaths of Grey, Reinhart or Acker, he couldn't help feel a huge burden of guilt when he looked into this woman's eyes.

How the hell did you apologize to someone for something like this?

Sorry seemed so inadequate. And etiquette books sure as hell didn't cover situations like this. What did he say?

Sorry I killed your father.

Sorry you had to hit the two for one jackpot on sexual predators in your family.

He didn't want to say it but there was nothing else that fitted.

"I…I'm sorry…." Tony said softly. He licked his lip and could feel it was already start to swell.

"I hate you so much…" Sarah's voice hitched as she stared at him. "You've taken everything…you've ruined my life…you set them up…."

The hand came up again and caught him on the mouth, this time he felt his lip split.

Sarah crumbled before him as the angry accusations flowed; he was thankful that at least her voice was low. He stayed quiet even though the simple truth was that he hadn't been the one to put the bullet into Grey's gut. The fact was that Sarah's father and husband had been very much intent on ending his life that night in the woods and not the other way round, it had just been a case of survival and nothing else and that was without factoring in the dead child in the garden covered in the senators and Grey's DNA. Tony raised his hand and wiped away the blood but it was flowing too freely and he gave up, letting it drip down his chin. He never really liked the suit he was wearing anyway.

"Look, Sarah…." He tried again and moved forward to take her arm, to try and offer her some comfort even thought he knew it was foolhardy.

"Don't you dare touch her!" Ingrid's eyes threw daggers at him as she moved to stand in front of her friend, effectively shielding her from him. "You murdering bastard…because of you people think that they were…were perverts. That's not true….it's not true."

Tony stared at the woman. Her mouth may have been defending the men but he could see in her eyes that she wasn't quite as convinced as her declaration indicated but where he was concerned black could be white and white could be black.

He looked Ingrid in the eyes and said very softly: "Yes… it is." She wouldn't hear him, instead choosing to switch the subject.

"You used me." She spat.

"Ingrid, it wasn't like that…" Tony tried to placate her even though his internal voice was saying _'Yeah, actually it had been a lot like that.'_

"You didn't care who you hurt did you?" Ingrid snarled at him. "You're going to tell me you were just doing your job…well that excuse didn't wash at the Nuremberg trials and it won't wash here. You're scum, you know that?"

Tony sighed and licked his lip, tasting copper. There was nothing like being compared to a Nazi to make a guy feel good about him but as much as the temptation was to be the whipping boy here, he wasn't quite prepared for that slight to stand. He hadn't been the one abusing kids, he hadn't been the one strangling and burying young girls in his back yard.

"Ingrid, I didn't mean to hurt anyone, yeah I was doing my job and I'm pretty damn good at it too… I wish the outcome could have been different but that wasn't of my making and you know that…deep down you know that. And as for what happened in that study, you wanted it…"

Okay, as soon as the words left his mouth, Tony knew he was in trouble but it was true. It wasn't like he had forced the issue; she'd been all over him like a rash.

There was no feminine slap with Ingrid. He'd go so far as to predict she'd grown up roughhousing with older brothers because she balled her hand into a tight fist and swung. He moved his head but not before her knuckles caught his eye, the diamond solitaire she wore bit into his eyelid and made him wince.

Damn, that had hurt.

He bent double, pressing the palm of his hand against his eye. Tony could hear a murmur around him and he was aware that they were now creating one hell of a scene. Visitors to the Yard were openly staring, several looked like they were from the Hoover building and boy would they be enjoying this.

Ingrid was yelling now, calling him every name under the sun and several he hadn't heard before.

Fuck, he could feel his eye throbbing under his palm. Tony turned away and doubled over, fighting the urge to curse loudly. When he came up he saw Sarah staring at him but this time with something other than naked anger, her eyes were registering confusion and maybe a little fear. It took a couple of seconds before the realization hit. She'd probably seen the scar on the back of his head and maybe it was finally sinking in, he'd been injured badly whilst in the company of her husband and father, his head was proof of what went on that night and it wasn't something he could have realistically done himself.

He locked eyes with Sarah to try and communicate to her that he did understand how she felt just as Ingrid took another swing.

Shit, talk about becoming a punching bag but he'd never raised his hand to a woman before and he had no intention of starting now, especially one that had every right to be pissed.

Her fist landed on his already split lip but he stood firm and squared his shoulders as the woman vented her spleen at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" A loud voiced boomed across the foyer and broke through his stance.

Tony felt his gut plummet.

Great.

It seemed like his ability to piss people off obviously wasn't just limited to women today.

* * *

Three minutes.

Three minutes was how long he managed to hold out before he picked up the phone and dialed reception.

Okay, so he was probably invading DiNozzo's privacy but the agent was on his time now so he felt entirely justified in satisfying his curiosity.

"Special Agent Gibbs here, can you tell me the names of Special Agent DiNozzo's visitors," he asked and listened as the reception recalled the log.

He slammed his phone down without a further word and leapt out of his seat.

"McGee, with me."

"We got a case, Boss?" Tim's head popped up from behind his monitor. He shared a perplexed look with Ziva as to why he was being singled out.

"_Now_, McGee," The junior agent scrambled up and scurried as fast as he could to catch up as Gibbs strode over to the stairwell.

"Boss, what's going on?" McGee asked as he slammed open the door and started to trot down the stairs.

"Hopefully nothing." Gibbs said darkly.

He could hear the silent question from Tim but he ignored it. He'd find out soon enough.

They made it to the ground floor in record time, McGee obviously picking up on the need for haste. Gibbs again hurled the door open and took in the scene.

Shit, it was just as he'd suspected…probably worse because no one was doing a damn thing and that included DiNozzo.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled at the guards who were stood watching the whole thing as if they were spectators at a baseball game.

He marched over and uncerimoniously pulled the blond woman away from Tony.

"Stop… now…unless you want to be arrested for assaulting a federal agent," He said in a tone that broached no argument.

Gibbs shot Tony an angry look.

"I was handling it, _Boss,_" DiNozzo's voice was quiet. Gibbs watched as he wiped the blood from his lip.

He shook his head.

"Yeah, I can see that…" he said sarcastically as he pulled the blonde towards the door. McGee was steering a shell-shocked Sarah Reinhart by the elbow after them.

By the time he'd walked both women to their car they had become quiet and were feeling probably more than a little contrite at being frogmarched out of the building, these weren't career criminals, they were middle-class women who lunched and gossiped and what they'd just done had obviously sunk in but that didn't wash with Gibbs.

"My agent very nearly died protecting a little girl that night …she was five and a half and she was terrified. Think about her and think about why she'd been brought to into that house next time you feel like apportioning blame." He glared hard at both women. "And if I ever..._ever_ see either of you approach Special Agent DiNozzo again I _will_ have you both arrested."

He opened the car door and unceremoniously pushed them inside.

"C'mon," Gibbs shook his head as the car quickly made it's way over the speed bumps.

When they arrived back the foyer it had cleared of people, and that included Tony.

Gibbs sighed and walked over to the reception.

"Did he leave?"

The women looked at him like mutes.

"Did Special Agent DiNozzo _leave _the building!" he all but yelled. Okay, so he knew he was being intimidating but he didn't give a shit right now.

They shook their heads and Gibbs spun around.

"Find him, McGee," he ordered as he made his way toward the guards.

"Are you trying to get an agent killed?" Gibbs crowded them, and got right up into their faces. "What if one of them had a knife…. did you think about that or were you enjoying the show too much to care."

"No, Sir!" George answered and at least had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"He told us to stay out of it, Sir." The other guard argued.

"So when the punches started to get thrown, you decided that you'd just watch? Did it not even occur to you to you to worry when you saw the name 'Reinhart' on the visitors sheet or are you both really that fucking clueless" Gibbs yelled. "Trust me if I see anything like this again you'll both be lucky to get jobs patrolling the local mall."

Gibbs stared at them both in disgust before he shook his head and made for the stairs again. He'd check the lab first then the loading bay. DiNozzo had gone somewhere to get a little focus; it was just a matter of finding out where.

Once he found him then then they would stop this pussy-footing around avoiding the issue because clearly it wasn't working.

* * *

"Tony, are you okay?"

McGee pushed open the bathroom door. DiNozzo was at the sink, his hands gripping the porcelain like his life depended on it and he was staring at the mirror.

It wasn't often that he saw Tony lose it but this was one of those days.

Tony had looked tired and defeated ever since he'd come out of hospital. They'd all noticed but this was a different animal.

Today Tim could see the naked emotions flitting across his friend's eyes.

It was kind of like staring into a black hole.

"Go away, McGee." Tony said without turning.

"Gibbs sent me…"

"McGee, I really don't give a shit right now…. Please, just leave me the fuck alone."

And not for the first time he felt at a complete loss as to how to handle this new, raw version of Tony.

**TBC**

**Scoobie Snacks to all who come and talk to me! The spank fairy sent to your house for all who don't! :) xx**


	16. Chapter 16

Sorry, sorry! Please don't yell at me! Pray forgive the long absence, RL has been hectic and more than a little crappy recently...so once again...sorry!

Love ya

Cheeks

xx

* * *

**Chapter 16**

After a fruitless search for Tony he eventually found McGee leaning against the wall outside the men's room on the second floor and the look on his face told Gibbs enough.

"Boss, he's in there."

"Okay, get back to work." Gibbs ordered.

McGee turned to go but Gibbs could sense a reluctance to leave.

He let out a frustrated sigh, but it wasn't aimed at the agent in front of him. DiNozzo was testing his patience right now with his stoic behavior over the Grey case.

McGee continued to blink at him like a frightened rabbit, probably not sure if he was the one that had done something to elicit the weary sigh.

"I'll sort this. He'll be okay, Tim, it's just been a rough few months." Gibbs added softly and clamped his hand against the young agents shoulder to let him know that for once his temper was not directed Tim's way. "Give him time."

McGee fidgeted for a couple of seconds, looking as if he wanted to add something but then he obviously changed his mind. He nodded slowly before retreating down the corridor, probably heading straight down to Abby in the lab if he had to make an educated guess.

Gibbs watched McGee go and waited until he was alone before he pushed open the restroom door.

DiNozzo was standing at the sink holding a bloodstained wad of paper towel against his lip. His eyes slid towards the door briefly but that was the only indication he gave that he knew he was no longer alone.

Gibbs moved into the room and leaned against one of the sinks next to him, and folded his arms.

DiNozzo steadfastly ignored his presence and the tension radiated off his back in waves. From the look on McGee's face Gibbs could guess the reception _he'd_ gotten so he stayed quiet for several minutes and just watched, trying to figure out where the man's head was at - although he already had a pretty good idea.

After five minutes of the stand off DiNozzo eventually spoke.

"Just say it, Boss, the anticipation is killing me." The smile on his face belied the hard edge to his voice.

"I know you have a way with women but that was pretty impressive even by your standards," Gibbs eventually said, going for the casual approach to try and dissipate the tension.

Tony snorted out a bitter laugh and checked his lip in the mirror before pressing the paper back against it.

The tension in the room didn't lessen at Gibbs' softly, softly tactics and it was obvious that Tony wasn't going to volunteer anything more without a little judicial prodding.

"You want to explain exactly what you were doing out there?" Gibbs asked.

Tony let the question hang in the air, choosing instead to become very interested in the tiny cut on his cheek.

Gibbs looked at the ceiling, counted to ten and tried to stay calm.

This could go one of two ways. DiNozzo would either start his usual bullshit to shut him out or he'd blow and that wouldn't be pretty. It was like treading on eggshells. He had flashbacks to tiptoeing like this around his ex-wives, but at least they hadn't been likely to punch him out cold.

"Hey?" Gibbs kept his voice firm but he toned down his usual impatience.

Tony shut his eyes and seemed to take a deep breath.

"Why, Tony?" Gibbs asked again.

"Atonement…reparation…to be honest, fuck knows, Boss?" Tony eventually responded.

"You aren't remotely responsible for the mess that family found itself in," Gibbs shook his head in frustration.

"Certainly feels like it..." Tony balled up the paper towel and tossed it into the trash. "Sarah's a nice woman and I screwed with her life. She has every right to be pissed."

Gibbs sighed.

That is what made Tony a great agent. Underneath all the stupidity and bluff was a deep sense of empathy towards people that astonished those who saw it, but it was also the very thing that made Gibbs want to shake the man. Beating yourself up over someone else's mistakes just wasn't healthy in this job.

Grey and Co had brought this on their families. DiNozzo may have been the catalyst for bringing their sordid lifestyles to the fore, but they had ultimately been the masters of their own destinies.

"I get she's pissed but that doesn't give her the right to take out her problems on you - and who the hell was the other woman? Someone who came along for the ride and thought it was a good idea to assault a federal agent?"

Tony looked embarrassed.

"Trust me, Boss, I definitely deserved that one."

Gibbs moved over to the towel dispenser and grabbed a sheet of paper. He handed it over.

"Care to explain?" he pointed to DiNozzo's cheek. "Your lip's bleeding again."

"Thanks." Tony dabbed his bottom lip gingerly. "I kind of left out certain details because it wasn't my finest hour. I got sloppy snooping in Grey's study at a party…."

"And?"

"It was a fuck up from start to finish. It was the only opportunity to get in there even though it wasn't the best time to try something like that. I quickly found what I needed in Grey's files but the second woman, Ingrid, bird-dogged me and found me in there and then Grey came along."

Gibbs had a feeling he knew where this was going. Hell, you did what you did in a situation like that, you couldn't beat yourself up over it if it got the job done.

"So…um…well, I had to think on my feet as to why I was in there and Ingrid was the perfect excuse. Um…I knew she was after me so I let her blow…" Tony sighed; his usual brand of high school bragging was very much absent.

"Yeah, okay, DiNozzo, I get the picture." Gibbs cut in quickly and raised his eyebrow.

"As I said, not my finest hour." Tony shrugged. "She thought I was boyfriend material and then finds out that I'm an agent. I kind of owed her the chance to slap me, Boss."

"Dammit, if the stupid woman felates men at a drop of a hat then it's her fault if it all goes south." Gibbs shook his head. "Not exactly the way to start a decent relationship so she only has herself to blame."

"Gotta say that's how most of my relationships start, Boss." Tony snorted as he moved over to the wall and slid down it until his ass hit the floor.

"That could be where you're going wrong, DiNozzo," Gibbs deadpanned.

"Yeah, you might be onto something there." Tony licked his lip.

The door opened and a head popped around the door. The agent took in the scene and quickly shut the door.

"Thought it was Ziva then. She has a thing about men's rooms." Tony smiled and it was the first genuine one Gibbs had seen all day. "Always manages to pop up when I've got my pants undone."

"I don't think I want to know." Gibbs smiled back.

"Not what you're thinking, Boss. I reckon they teach Mossad chicks that men are at their most vulnerable when they have their members in their hands; Ziva thinks that the men's room is the best place to talk."

Gibbs gave a snort. It was just like Ziva to work out that the only way to get past DiNozzo's defenses was to catch him when he was most out of his comfort zone.

"One of my ex-wives would pounce when I'd just got out the shower, knew I'd crumble." Gibbs revealed in the spirit of the moment.

"I think they teach that stuff in the womb, Boss. We don't stand a chance." Tony shook his head. He licked his lip again and winced.

Gibbs pushed off from the sink.

"You good to work?" He asked quietly.

DiNozzo's head shot up.

"What? Of course I am…it's only a split lip!"

"You know that's not what I'm talking about." Gibbs tilted his head and stared at his agent. "It seems to me you're pretty screwed up right now."

"I'm fine." Tony's voice was brittle again.

"Yeah?" Gibbs continued to stare.

Tony stared back but quickly looked away and wiped his hands on his pants.

"It's just…I still can't get some of the shit I went through setting up Grey out of my head. It's not like I hadn't encountered material like it before, being a cop you can't get away from cases like that; but this was different, and I guess the comments and e-mails are getting to me. It's all a huge joke to everyone, you know… Special Agent Mackey sent me a picture of a high school volley ball team this morning with a pithy comment but I guess I seem to have lost my sense of humor over this one."

Gibbs hadn't anticipated that the other agents would be fooling with DiNozzo, and dammit he should have done.

"Who else is sending you stuff?" Gibbs growled.

" I didn't tell you so you could start a witch hunt. You know that it's the way it is here, Boss, gallows humor rules…"Tony sighed and shook his head. "It's me that has the problem over this not anyone else."

Gibbs nodded. Tony may have been right, it was the culture of the place but you also had to know when to draw the line. Some subjects you _had _to draw a line under but some agents obviously didn't operate to that rule.

He continued to observe, knowing that there was more to come. This wasn't about dubious e-mails; it was all about cumulative effect.

Tony started to absentmindedly pick at his sleeve.

"While I was off I had a call from a contact of mine at the FBI… you know the girl I found buried in the woods was murdered a month into my assignment?"

Gibbs cursed internally and his gut lurched. He should have known that Tony would still be closely following the case even though it wasn't theirs anymore and he should have also realized where DiNozzo's mind would have gone with that piece of information.

Tony lifted his head and Gibbs could see the turmoil swimming around in his eyes.

"Where the fuck was I, Gibbs? What the hell was I doing whilst that bastard was raping and killing that little girl, huh?" DiNozzo spoke softly but there was an edge to it that Gibbs hadn't heard in a long time.

"Hey, your job was to get close to Grey, make him trust you, which you did. Your job wasn't to tail him 24/7, hell, could have been one of the other bastards who killed her, we don't know!"

Gibbs found his voice rising as the frustration he'd been feeling previously rushed back; partly fueled by annoyance at himself for not seeing this coming, but mainly aimed at how infuriating DiNozzo was when he was in this mode. Why the hell did this man feel the continual need to blame himself over things he had no control over? After meeting his father he had a pretty good idea but that didn't explain things entirely.

"But I should have done more, my gut was telling me there was more to the man than Internet porn. I suspected yet I did nothing." Tony said quietly.

Gibbs sighed.

"The parents of those two girls you stopped going on that sleepover would disagree that point I think, DiNozzo. You acted fast and you kept them safe even though you knew it could have compromised the assignment." Gibbs reasoned.

"But…" Tony shook his head.

"DiNozzo. Stop!" Gibbs barked. "Jesus, you were undercover for months, you're one man and there was no way you could have prevented it. Get that into your thick skull because blaming yourself will not change anything."

Tony blinked at the floor.

"Vance should _never_ have sent you into something like that alone, with no back up. This was his fuck up. Not yours." Gibbs growled. "That girl's death was _not _your fault and you certainly don't owe those two women squat. You got that?"

Tony lifted his head and blinked slowly several times.

"I said…have you got that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs repeated.

"Yeah, I guess," Tony reluctantly said.

"Not your fault…any of it, repeat it after me," Gibbs said firmly. "Not my fault…"

"Not my fault, got it, Boss," Tony finally repeated with slightly more conviction.

It wasn't the exactly the affirmation Gibbs hoped for but it was a start. He could hear voices outside the door and figured that their talk was about to be interrupted again. Not the most private of places to hold an intervention but at least DiNozzo had shared a little of what was going on inside his head.

"C'mon, you can take an early lunch." Gibbs reached a hand out towards DiNozzo.

Tony nodded and clasped the hand and allowed the Boss to haul him up.

"Bring me back a coffee and one of those pastrami on rye from that deli you keep telling me about." Gibbs gruffly ordered. "Take your time…the paperwork will still be there when you get back."

"Thanks, Boss." Tony ran a hand through his hair and looked awkward.

Gibbs ignored the words, not because they didn't mean anything but because it looked like DiNozzo was still a little fragile and what he probably needed now was a little space, but he gave a smile and nodded to indicate that he'd heard, but thanks weren't needed.

Gibbs walked away with a renewed sense of purpose. He gritted his teeth and headed back towards the bullpens.

* * *

The everyday running of the yard was an irritation Leon Vance often found he could do without.

When he was trying to keep track of terrorist threats throughout the world and keeping his head when the other agencies pushed, the last thing he needed was to have to deal with issues related to the quality of the toilet paper or how someone was parking in the wrong spot. He was sure that he employed a facilities manager to prevent his having to get involved in the ground level stuff, but still he found himself embroiled in the petty squabbles between the departments that always seemed to be going on, and usually at the center of those squabbles were the agents and their supposed attitudes towards other staff members.

He was so fed up with all the gripes that he was actually thinking about holding a mandatory talk for all ground level and admin staff to let them know what a field agent had to go through, compete with horrific crime scene photos and real cases. Leon thought that maybe a cold hard education would stop all the complaints. Whereas he realized that everyone had a job to do, some were more stressful than others and he'd generally come down on the side of his the agents every time.

The cleaning staff needed to understand that whilst on a hot case agents were lucky to eat once a day, and keeping their desks and the surrounding area free of putrefying food was not high on the list of priorities. Maybe the maintenance staff would realize that punching a wall or kicking a door was a reasonable and healthy release when you'd just spent the morning with a corpse that had been brutalized beyond all recognition, and was not a deliberate act purely to make more work for them. And the archive and evidence girls needed to understand that when the information they controlled could well mean life and death for someone good manners sometimes left the building.

Yup, a course might just stop all the petty squabbles and would probably scare the shit out of them in the process. Sometimes he got the impression that the majority of the staff thought field agents were just highly paid posers who swanned around in their suits doing fuck all.

That really wasn't the case, and Special Agent DiNozzo was walking proof of it.

It had taken less than twenty minutes for the news of the altercation in reception to reach Leon Vance. The reception staff had put in a complaint about how Special agent Gibbs had treated them; the head of the admin staff had sent a mail complaining that something be done about the aggressive nature of some of the field agents. He'd sighed and picked up the phone to find out what had happened. Gibbs was a pain in the ass but generally he never acted without reason.

After watching the tapes to check that he had the correct story, he'd immediately called in the head of security and the two guards had been suspended until the end of the week when he'd seen that procedure hadn't been followed and the women hadn't even been searched; that had been inexcusable. All it would have taken was one concealed knife or gun and it would have been game over for DiNozzo. The excuse used by the guards that the women had looked 'respectable' just didn't cut it and it would prove a valuable lesson to the other guards not to get sloppy.

He'd been keeping his eye on the bullpens ever since, casually strolling out of his office every few minutes and along the gangway back and forth to MTAC and the break room as if it were part of his natural routine. The whole episode had sounded the warning bells in his gut. He'd been worried about Tony; the case had turned into a huge nightmare and DiNozzo had been firmly in the center of the whole clusterfuck.

Ziva David sat behind her desk but she kept casting her gaze towards the elevators. Timothy McGee was sitting huddled with Abigail Sciuto but there was still no sign of Gibbs or DiNozzo. He was just about to make his way back to his office when the leader of the group strode his way into the bullpens. Leon watched with interest as Gibbs moved his chair and climbed up onto his desk.

Okay this was interesting. He made his way down the stairs whilst keeping his eye on Gibbs.

An ear-piercing whistle caused all agents on the floor to look up from their desks in shock.

"Listen up!" Gibbs barked. "The 'amusing' e-mails and comments to DiNozzo about the Grey case stop now!"

The sarcasm Gibbs laid on the word amusing was not lost on anyone in the vicinity and Leon saw several agents flush and look embarrassed.

"If I find anyone deciding to ignore this then I will personally put my boot so far up your ass you'll be tasting leather for weeks…got it?" Gibbs swung his gaze around the room. There was a murmur of assent and uncomfortable shuffling.

Several agents sat up straighter as he approached and Leon knew that most were wondering how he was going to react to the disruption to the floor.

Gibbs nodded briskly at him and climbed down from his desk, as usual the man was unconcerned at being caught threatening his colleagues.

The Director was also aware that Ms. Sciuto was narrowing her eyes at him, looking very much as if she was ready to pounce at a moment's notice should he try and reprimand Special Agent Gibbs. He actually found her loyalty amusing and endearing but he kept his face neutral.

Leon cleared his throat before he spoke.

"I may not be able to use my boot but if I hear that anyone has ignored Special Agent Gibbs' advice then that person or persons will find out just what it means to be on my shit list."

He looked slowly around the bullpens to make sure his message truly got across.

There was a murmur of shocked assent.

"Now back to work everyone," He turned towards the Goth to see her grinning at him. Leon gave her a small smile. "That also means you Ms. Sciuto."

"Yes, Sir!" She gave him a sloppy salute and bounced off with a saucy backward wave as she hit the elevator.

Gibbs gave him another nod.

"Thanks."

"No problem," Leon brushed the thanks off. "Should I be worried after DiNozzo's little stunt in reception? Does he need more time?"

Gibbs paused then shook his head.

"Nope, work is the best thing for him right now."

Leon locked eyes with Gibbs.

"Let me know if that changes; the agency won't think any less of him if he does need to take some time off."

Gibbs tilted his head.

"What about you, Leon?"

Vance turned and saw that McGee and David were avidly listening to the exchange whilst both studiously appearing to be working. He leaned forward but raised his voice so that the wider population of the pens could hear.

"I admit Special Agent DiNozzo and I didn't exactly hit it off to start with but I see now what an asset he is to this agency and what a fine agent and man he really is. It was a pleasure to work so closely with him and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Let me know when DiNozzo returns. I'd like to see him in my office to let him know that he's been recommended for a commendation for bravery. He damn well deserves that and more for all he endured to keep that little girl safe, considering his injuries and how outnumbered he was."

Gibbs raised his eyebrow at his speech but looked satisfied that in the space of a minute they had successfully managed to quell any further scuttlebutt that DiNozzo was a burnout that'd fucked up his big assignment with the director of the agency.

Leon didn't feel the need to add anything more. The conversation would be halfway round the yard by the time he made it back to his office.

* * *

Tony rubbed first one toe of his shoe against the back of his pant leg, then the other. Looking down at the shine he straightened his shirt.

The front door, no turning back now. His finger hovered for a few seconds before he pressed it firmly on the bell.

He wasn't sure how the hell this had happened.

Wasn't even sure why he'd accepted but then Vance really hadn't given him much of a choice in the matter and he'd been still shell-shocked to hear that he'd been nominated for an award. Certainly the firm 'be at my house at seven, my wife's cooking a pot roast' hadn't given him much time to think of a sound excuse to wiggle out of the dinner invite.

A shadow loomed behind the glass and Leon opened the door wearing a god-awful sweater that looked like it must have been a gift from his mother.

"Tony! Right on time!" Leon said jovially. "Come in, come in."

"Leon." He responded. Tony still felt strange calling 'The Toothpick' that. "Thanks for inviting me."

Tony saw there was a pretty girl, peeking out from underneath his armpit, smiling shyly at him as Leon moved to the side.

"I must admit I thought your wife would be taller, Sir." He held out his hand formally towards the girl, who erupted into floods of giggles.

"No! I'm Kayla! This is my daddy!" Kayla ducked out from behind her father and shook his hand.

"Oops! I'm Tony." He solemnly responded and lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. "Excuse me. I'm a bit nervous, first dinner with my boss you know."

Kayla giggled again.

Leon shook his head as he shut the door, clearly amused.

Tony looked back towards Vance in a silent plea as the young virago dragged him down the hall by his hand. Leon just grinned.

The lounge was big but it was cozy. This was a house that was lived in. Nice pieces of furniture nestled up against functional items. It was a good look.

"This Jared. My brother." Kayla nodded to a young boy sitting on the couch with a cell phone. The boy looked up and smiled at him before going back to his tiny screen.

"And this my gorgeous wife, Jackie." Vance introduced him to an attractive woman who had appeared from a room to the left and was wiping her hands on a cloth. "Jackie…Tony…. Tony…. Jackie."

"Pleased to meet you, Ma'am." Tony responded and suddenly found himself being pulled into a friendly embrace complete with cheek kissing.

Jackie stepped back and scrutinized him. She brought her hand up to his chin and tilted his head, inspecting his lip and cheek, and Tony got the impression that there wasn't much husband and wife didn't share because she didn't ask what had happened, she just shook her head sadly at him.

"Jackie, please, Tony. None of this Ma'am stuff, it makes me feel old!" She released his chin and smiled at him.

"Woman, you are in the prime of your life and you know it, tell you enough…." Leon moved and put his arm around her shoulders and beamed.

"Oh get away with you!" Jackie playfully swatted her husband with the end of the towel.

Leon grabbed the towel out of her hand and swatted back, making the kids laugh and groan in equal measure at their parents display.

Tony found himself embarrassed by the public show of affection and the whole domesticity of it all. The mischief between the married couple was clearly not for show; the body language of both was relaxed and easy. This was clearly going to be a night when he saw a very different side to the director.

"Beer, Tony?" Jackie swatted her husband again and asked. "Or wine?"

"A beer would be good." Tony smiled, relieved. Beer… he'd definitely need a beer or two to settle his nerves tonight.

"Coming right up." Leon followed his wife into the kitchen still fooling around with the towel.

Jared shut his cell and blinked at him almost expectantly. Tony cleared his throat and awkwardly lowered himself onto one of the couches with Kayla sticking by his side like a limpet. She too was staring at him like he was an exhibit in the zoo.

Frantically trying to think of something to say, he looked around the room.

"We heard Dad tell Mom that you broke a man's neck with your bare hands."

Tony snapped his head around.

They were blinking excitedly at him; two kids from a computer game generation where that very act was achieved with a mere flick of a thumb, death with no consequence except to get you to the next level.

He swallowed hard, not quite sure what to say.

"Is it true?" Jared pressed. "Did you?"

How the hell did you respond to a question like that, especially to people who looked like they should still be read bedtime stories?

"Did you also shoot a guy in the…"

He'd never been more thankful to see Vance or a beer in his life.

"You two wash up and then go set the table, please." Leon ordered his kids as he walked back into the room holding two beers; he handed one over and took a long pull on his.

When they didn't immediately move Leon added a firm 'now' and they both unfolded themselves of the couch and sighed but made their way towards the dining room arguing as to who was going to do what job.

"Sorry about that. Kids have a knack for eavesdropping; that conversation was not meant for their ears."

"No problem." Tony mumbled awkwardly.

"No it's not okay. This evening is _not_ about work and especially not about that damn case. I'm sorry." Vance sighed and paused before he continued. "I know it hasn't been easy for you."

"It's part of the job."

"We both know that case was more than just another assignment, Tony." Vance stared him down. "You know I'm here if you need to talk or if you just need a friend."

That was unexpected. He'd have eaten his shoes if you'd have told him months ago that the director would be labeling himself as a friend.

"I thought you said this evening wasn't about the Grey case, Leon." Tony kept his gaze. He really did not want to talk about that pedophile bastard, not now, not ever.

He sucked his teeth as Vance nodded and sat down opposite him. Subject closed.

Although he felt more comfortable with the director now he had never been in a situation that required small talk before. Luck was on his side; Leon was comfortable in his own home and proceeded to regale him with tales from his boxing days. Jackie came and sat on the arm of his chair joining in with the stories until a timer buzzed signaling that dinner was ready.

The meal was delicious but what surprised him the most was how much the kids were included in the conversations. Flashes of recollection came to him of awkward meals with his own parents, where he had to stay silent and show perfect manners.

Here it wasn't a case of seen and not heard. They noisily asked for more potato or beans, elbows on the table, cutlery clattering as they excitedly talked about school achievements with full mouths.

It was a lively evening with the kids taking full advantage of having someone new to show off to and Tony found himself laughing more than he had in a long time.

With a gentle prodding that it was past bedtime the evening broke up. Jared and Kayla both tried it on, whined that they weren't tired, pleaded that they had promised Tony that they would show him their prowess on the hoop outside. Leon firmly told them that the night was over and to go to bed before he cut their allowances but the threat lacked any bite and the crinkling around the man's eyes told the real story.

Kayla looked towards Tony, pleading with him to intervene on their behalf. He placated them with promises that next time he came over they would play b-ball.

As he swigged the last of his beer Tony watched both parents as they hugged and kissed their kids goodnight before Kayla and Jared conceded defeat and slumped their way upstairs with one last wave in his direction.

Jackie started to clear the table. Tony stood and picked up his plate, set to help.

"I'll do it, you're a guest and guests don't do chores," Jackie chastised and took the dish from him.

"You won't win, so I'd give up now." Leon told him.

She shooed them into the den. Leon grabbed two more beers on the way.

"Thanks." Tony took the beer and sat down on the couch. "You have a really nice family."

"Kids." Leon raised his eyes heavenward but what showed was the obvious pride he had in his children. "Drive you to distraction but you wouldn't be without them, just wish I had more free time to spend with them. Not easy with the job, but I try. Make damn sure that I'm around for the important things. There's more to life than work…plus Jackie would divorce me if I became the kind of man who chose work over family…"

Leon was on a roll and spouted his philosophy on how some men shouldn't have kids if they were too busy to see them grow up. The man was talkative about the things that mattered to him and the subject of family clearly did. Vance was relaxed and comfortable with the subject.

Tony nodded slowly. He knew he should say something to add to the conversation but he found himself just sitting back and listening.

Jackie joined them and they talked about their childhoods, family vacations with aunts and uncles, how Leon's father taught him how to strip an engine from scratch, mundane stuff but it was so alien to Tony.

"Hey, you okay?"

He looked up from where he'd been silently peeling the label off his beer. Leon was staring at him intently. Jackie was also frowning.

"Sorry, good food and company." Tony fixed a smile on his face and checked his watch. He'd been there long enough not to appear rude, it had been a long day. "I'd better make tracks before I start snoring on your couch."

"Can I get you a coffee?" Jackie was still frowning as he stood.

"I'll better pass, don't want to overstay my welcome, appraisals are coming up and my boss can be a bit of a hard-ass." Tony quipped as he grabbed his coat off the chair and headed to the door.

Leon didn't look entirely convinced at his explanation but he seemed to let it slide.

After the usual drawn out goodbyes and promises that they must do it again, Tony pulled away from the house.

The bedroom door was open and the faint glow from the kitchen light didn't quite reach to where Tony lay sprawled on his bed.

He felt hollow. Kind of empty.

It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed the Vances' company because surprisingly, he had - but the evening weighed heavily on him and he knew why.

He was halfway down a bottle of Merlot when he flipped his phone open; he scrolled down to the right number and pressed, taking another healthy swallow of his wine whilst he did so.

The number rang and rang the other end before it was eventually answered.

"Junior! I was just about to turn in." His father boomed. "It's a little late to be making calls."

"Hey, dad," Tony swirled his wine around in his glass.

He drained his glass and refilled it.

This didn't seem like such a good idea now.

**TBC**

**Cupcakes to all who are nice to me and review. xx**


	17. Chapter 17

**Sorry for the wait but it is a long chapter to make up for it!**

**Thanks to Scousemuz1k for being a wonderful person and a fabulous beta.**

**Gotta say I hate the new format over here, responding to reviews is so darn crappy now so many thanks in advance to all who click on that little box.**

**Love ya**

**Cheeks**

**xx**

* * *

Tony calmly picked lint off his sweatpants as Senior talked and talked about all the business pipe dreams he had, all the money he'd make through new contacts he'd found in Dubai and how maybe he would settle in that part of the world as the women were classy, beautiful and invariably independently wealthy.

It was always the same and completely typical of his father.

They hadn't spoken for months and although they were both trying hard to bridge the Grand Canyon size gap that bisected their relationship, it was still always an awkward exercise. Stilted conversations and uncomfortable silences were the general order of the day, which was incredible considering how much both loved to talk.

It also amused, no that wasn't the right word, pissed Tony off that Senior didn't consider a call at 1am from his son was anything other than an opportunity to brag about his delusional business prowess. Most parents would be on high alert, or at the very least they would casually enquire if anything were wrong.

It flashed through his mind just to say it, blurt it out.

'_Well, dad thanks for asking. Actually I've just spent the last god knows how long undercover posing as a pedophile; I also had brain surgery and almost lost my fingers to frostbite too in case you were interested. Nope, nothing wrong, dad, just the fact that I haven't slept in days because whenever I close my eyes I see dead girls and images of kids doing things that they should never be forced to do; oh and I feel like I'm fucking coming apart at the seams. So, yeah, everything is fine and dandy with me really.'_

But mollycoddling, as Senior called it, was not the man's way…ever, and Tony knew he'd simply be told to suck it up and stop wallowing.

Tony continued to sip his wine and wondered idly why he was actually trying to speak about anything remotely personal with his father when experience told him that their relationship only worked as long as they kept strictly to very sporadic and cordial chitchats about nothing.

He'd stupidly called Senior after he'd lost his partner and close friend in a shoot out with drug dealers in Peoria. All he'd gotten for his pains had been a completely disinterested comment that had run along the lines of 'you choose that career path, then you have to deal with things like that happening, Anthony'.

An insistent buzz in his ear broke through his internal monologue.

"Junior, are you still there? Junior…"

Tony realized that he must have stopped making any automatic 'I'm listening and I'm fascinated' noises.

He sipped his wine again before responding to his father, wincing as the acidic tang seeped into the raw cut in his lip.

"Dad…did you and my mother actually want children?" He didn't know where the question had come from but it was out there now. Guess that's what happened when you mixed alcohol with spending the evening with Washington's version of The Waltons.

"Junior…" His father sounded exasperated as he always did when things got a little too personal.

"C'mon, Dad. I really want to know." Tony kept his voice even, as if the answer really didn't matter. "Did you and mom actually plan on having kids?"

His father went silent for a while before responding.

"I met your mother when I was traveling, and after we married we continued globe trotting. That was our life, staying with friends, drinking and partying, free to move at the drop of a hat. Your mother and I never discussed if we wanted children, we were too wrapped up in each other. And then suddenly we found out we were expecting and we really weren't ready to be parents. We still had so much we wanted to do, to go to so many places," Senior said simply. "You came as a big shock to us. I guess we were both too selfish for a baby, it wasn't part of our plans."

"So I was an accident, huh?" Tony said tightly, not like he hadn't always known he'd been an afterthought.

"I took your mother to Rome for our first wedding anniversary; she'd been taking antibiotics for a mild strep throat infection and we forgot that we needed to take extra precautions." His father gave a throaty chuckle. "So I guess you could say you _were _a mistake in the heat of the moment. End of our life as we knew it."

He shut his eyes briefly. A mistake, that just about summed him up.

"Having me didn't seem to make a difference to those plans, you both continued gallivanting around the world anyway," Tony responded dryly. He picked off another bit of lint and rolled it in his fingers, his phone wedged by his chin.

"We took you along several times too if you remember, but you always managed to get into trouble! There was that trip to Monaco where you fell off that fountain wall, I never knew such a small head wound could bleed so much. And there was the vacation to England when you were five. We were sightseeing in Oxford and you decided to go walkabout without us; found you three hours later sitting in a public house with a group of students from Balliol College. You gave your mother a nervous breakdown that day."

Yeah, Tony remembered it well. In fact the hours he'd spent with those students counted as some of his happiest childhood memories.

He fondly recalled sitting next to a roaring log fire in a huge, cracked, green leather chair with several college scarves wound around his neck even though it had been hotter than the sun in that pub. He remembered feeling so proud when it was suggested that he became the college mascot because he'd been 'so funny'.

They'd completely indulged him, bought him packets of dry roasted peanuts, salt and vinegar chips and thick slices of pork pie with a hard-boiled egg right in the center. He'd drunk several glasses of dark brown, liquorish tasting Dandelion and Burdock soda, which he'd never encountered before. It had taken a little while to get used to but he'd persevered because it had made him feel like a grown up…especially as they hadn't insisted he use a straw like his mother always did. They had ruffled his hair and listened to his chatter without telling him to be quiet which seemed like Nirvana to him back then at a time when his life had been pretty much about being seen and not heard.

Tony also remembered how his father had roughly dragged him out of the pub by his arm, almost wrenching it off, and had spanked his ass sharply several times right there on the street for walking off and worrying them.

His mother had dramatically taken to her bed that afternoon and he'd been packed off that evening to stay with Uncle Clive in London for the rest of the vacation.

"You were a nightmare to take away," his father chuckled. "Always so inquisitive, we'd turn around for one minute, something would catch your eye and you'd be off. You drove us to distraction."

"So why did you have me if I was such an inconvenience?" Tony again forced his voice to stay light and neutral.

"Junior, not this again…" His father sighed down the line.

"What do you mean 'this again'…we've never talked about 'this' before," Tony responded, finally losing his calm. After an evening seeing how the Vances acted as a family it did hurt that his parents had always been so blasé about his very existence.

"We never _talk_, Dad," he finished quietly.

"Is that what this call is about?" Senior sounded testy.

"I don't know, Dad, _you_ figure it out, I mean it's the middle of the night and you've not even asked why I called? Heaven forbid that anything be wrong, that I might actually need to 'talk' about anything." Tony said sarcastically.

"You're an adult Anthony, whining is unbecoming," Senior mocked. The problem was he'd been hearing the same refrain to be a grown up since he was about five.

"Jesus Dad, just answer the question!" Tony said aware that he _was _whining but he was too damn weary to care much. "Why did you even have me if I was such an inconvenience?"

"Because _your_ mother didn't believe in abortion! There, _now_ can I go to bed?" Senior sighed again.

"So _you_ wanted to get rid of me?"

"That isn't what I said!" Senior snapped.

"Sounded like it to me, Dad, I'm an investigator remember…I put the pieces together to come up with the whole story." Tony said quietly.

Tony picked up the wine bottle and refilled his glass.

The awkward angle of his hand caused the neck of the bottle to clank against the lead crystal of his glass with a loud resounding ping.

"Are you drinking, Junior? I should have known, alcohol always made your mother maudlin and over emotional."

"Dad… for Gods sake!"

Tony deliberately slammed the bottle down on his side table and took a huge gulp of wine in direct retaliation to his father's statement.

"This isn't about _me _drinking; this is about knowing my whole life that I was nothing more than an inconvenience to you both. You made that abundantly clear to me; I spent my childhood being passed around like a package to anyone who'd have me. And it got worse after mom died. Jesus, you didn't even care who you dumped me with. If they said yes, that was good enough."

Tony took breath.

"Fuck, dad…. you left me for the whole weekend with a guy you'd only just met in a bar so you could go off and do God knows what. Do you know how many perverts and pedophiles there are out there? Did you even think of that when you left me with a man you knew absolutely nothing about?"

There was a stony silence at the other end of the line and when his father did finally speak, he sounded old, which was not something Tony ever thought of his father as being even though the man was advancing in years now.

""What are you trying to tell me, Junior? Did he molest you, is that what you're trying to tell me? Did that bastard mess with you?"

"God, Dad…. No!" Tony huffed out an exasperated breath.

He'd spent that whole weekend feeling utterly shit scared but the man hadn't actually touched him. Stared a lot, yeah and watched a little too intently as he got changed into his pajamas, as he got ready for bed but never touched him. Whether that was from sheer luck, nerves on the man's part or maybe he was maligning the guy just because he didn't know how to act around kids, Tony would never know. What he did know was his father should never have left him with a total stranger.

Shit, he pressed the heel of one of his hands hard into his forehead. He was beginning to get a headache. Funny how conversations with his father usually ended that way.

"If nothing happened then what is your problem, Anthony!" his father sounded way beyond pissed, probably annoyed at having wasted precious seconds of his life worrying about him.

"My _problem_ is that you constantly left me with strangers, you didn't know who the hell they were or what they were capable of. Anything could have happened because you didn't give a shit." Tony yelled. Someone in the apartment above thumped on the floor over his head. Shit, yeah, it was the early hours of the morning and normal people were asleep. He lowered his voice. "And my _problem_ is you _still_ don't give a shit."

"I did my best back then, it wasn't easy having to cope with a child and earn a living," His father snapped.

"Millions of people seem to manage that task quite well, so why the hell was it so difficult for you?" Tony snapped back.

His father snorted.

"Oh please! Climb down off your damn high horse, Junior. Do you honestly think you'd do a better job? Don't make me laugh. You work twenty-hour days when you're on a case; you practically live at that naval yard even when you're not. You'd be around less than I was," Senior spat out angrily. "As you see fit for some reason to tell me that I've been a bad father, let me tell you something, Son. You'd be just as inept as I was, probably a whole lot worse because of your career."

Tony gripped his wine glass tighter and licked his swollen lip. His father was in full attack mode, he'd been on the receiving end many times throughout his life but it never got any easier.

"Face it, Junior, you've never managed to commit to anything or anyone your whole life so what makes you think you'd be any different with if a child were involved?"

He could hear his father breathing heavily down the line, could just picture the vein throbbing in Senior's neck as it always did when he got angry.

Tony unclenched his jaw and drained the last of his wine before he responded.

"Gee, thanks for that, dad, I guess that's it then for this latest heartwarming father and son bonding session. Must do it again next year. I'll look forward to it."

"Junior, look…. I…"

His father started to speak but Tony was done and didn't need to listen to any more of his father's words of wisdom. That line of conversation hadn't been what he'd intended when he'd made the call, it really hadn't but this is what happened when he and his father 'talked'.

"Goodnight, dad," Tony said quietly before he ended the call.

He switched his cell onto silent even though he didn't expect his father to call him back and threw it onto the chair opposite his bed.

Tony rubbed his temples, then ran a hand across the thick scar at the back of his scalp. His head was really throbbing like a bitch now.

He padded into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He found some painkillers that he'd been sent home from the hospital with and popped a couple in his mouth. He turned on the cold tap and cupped his hand under the faucet, scooped some water into his mouth and swallowed.

Tony wiped his mouth and stared at the mirror. His bruised eye where Ingrid's ring had caught him yesterday was slowly going down, his lip still stung like a bitch and the dark circles under his eyes told him that he really needed to go to bed, but he knew sleep wouldn't be coming anytime soon.

One simple twenty-minute call to his father had him feeling more alone than ever.

Why the hell had he ever thought that reaching out to his father was a good thing when his brain was in such a fucked up place?

The fact that he'd realized that his father was correct, that he was destined to carry the mantle for shit parenting by virtue of his genes was just the icing on the cake, but the phone call to his father hadn't been about wanting validation for his very existence as much as desperately reaching out to the one person he knew he should have been closest to, the one person who should have been able to scare away the monsters for him.

Although he was a grown man, he just wanted to hear his father to tell him it would be okay.

That's all he'd ever wanted.

* * *

The bullpens across the floor were starting to fill up now, yet he'd already squeezed in a meeting with Vance, talked with a black ops unit in Afghanistan via MTAC and completed the previous week's expense forms.

Entering the bullpens he glanced at the desks in his section, the one bowed head already there didn't look up when he passed.

"You were in early." Gibbs put his coffee down on the corner of his desk and set about taking his jacket off. "Your car was already here when I arrived at six."

"Still trying to catch up with my mails." Tony eventually looked up from his screen and waved his hand in the direction of his monitor.

"You sure that's all it is?" Gibbs unclipped his gun and tossed it in the drawer. He sat down. "Cause it looks to me like you didn't sleep much last night."

He didn't often venture into personal territory with his agents but after the past few months he felt it was a necessity. The elevator dinged and he silently cursed at the soon to be intrusion.

McGee stepped into the bullpen followed by Ziva.

"Morning Probie, Ziva," Tony greeted his colleagues.

Gibbs wasn't going to let him off that easily.

"Did you sleep at all last night?" he asked.

Ziva and McGee looked Tony's way.

The man in question rolled his eyes and answered nonchalantly.

"Slept like a log actually, just a late night," he smiled.

"Really? Leon said you left his place at nine, pretty much straight after dinner. That doesn't sound like a late night to me." Gibbs gulped his coffee and continued to watch his agent.

The two junior members of the team moved quickly from concern and onto amazement.

"The Director is inviting you to his home for dinner now, Tony?" Ziva cooed and raised an eyebrow.

"Dinner…with Director Vance?" McGee's mouth gaped open like a fish at the tidbit of news.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Probie, you're still The Toothpick's favorite." Tony quipped as he returned his focus to his screen tapped at his keyboard. "I suspect he only invited me because his wife made him rather than any deep seated liking for me."

Gibbs pursed his lips and returned his gaze to his paperwork. That was unusual. DiNozzo tended to use everything to his advantage where McGee was involved and gloating at any perceived favoritism with the director would be right up the man's street yet he was playing down the event.

Why?

"So why do you look so tired if you left early?" Gibbs asked looking up briefly from the file he'd just opened.

"It was a long day yesterday, first day back and all, don't bounce back like I used to, I guess." Tony shrugged.

That was a bunch of bull crap and Gibbs knew it.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes again and observed his agent.

As much as he hated to admit it, it was clear that what had happened in the past months obviously still weighed heavily on DiNozzo. His face was so pale that the split lip, slightly puffy eye and bruise on Tony's cheek from yesterdays skirmish stood out in stark relief against the skin, and he'd bet a month's pay that he was still spending his evenings staring vacantly into the Potomac; he'd have to check on that again.

When questioned, Leon had said that everything had gone extremely well, Tony had charmed both his wife and children, had appeared relaxed until after dinner when he'd seemed to withdraw from the evening, and made his excuses to leave even though the night had been young. The director had admitted to being at a loss as to what had triggered the switch.

Nope, DiNozzo had dark circles under his eyes and a tight pinched expression on his face that said the man had something on his mind and he was going to get to the bottom of it before the guy managed to tie himself up in knots that no one would be able to untangle.

* * *

Tony shut the refrigerator in the rec room and sighed. It had been a sad day when Special Agent Ross had jumped ship over to the FBI. Damn, that man's wife could cook, and just about everyone in the agency at one point or the other had purloined the man's food supply.

He spied a Krispy Kreme box on the counter top and quickly advanced on it, flipping open the lid with one finger and peering in. There was one solitar, glazed donut sitting in the bottom. Taking a large bite, he frowned as he chewed; stale was not the word but beggars can't be choosers so he shrugged, and rinsed down the dry mouthful with some of his coffee.

The day was turning out to be a quiet one. The sort of day that was as much a blessing as it was a curse. He was beyond tired so the lack of brainpower needed was a plus but the day was dragging big time and that wasn't a boon when all he wanted was to get home, shut the blinds and ignore the world.

Leaning heavily against the counter, Tony finished off his impromptu stale snack.

His cell vibrated in his pocket and he retrieved it with the less sticky hand, checking the screen fully expecting it to be McGee warning him that Gibbs was looking for him or Abby, just because she wanted to chat.

It wasn't either.

He absentmindedly wiped his hand against his pant leg as he stared at the screen.

Stared at his father's number.

As he debated whether or not to answer, his cell stopped ringing as it tripped into answerphone. He waited, knew he should just press delete without even listening but he always did have a masochistic streak. Sighing, he brought his cell up to his ear and started to listen to the message his father had just left.

'_Junior, Look, about last night...'_

Tony gritted his teeth as he tucked his phone under his chin and turning on the faucet he rinsed the sugary residue off his hands.

'…_On reflection I was perhaps a little too blunt but you didn't hold back last night in pointing out my flaws as a father maybe it's time I listed your flaws as a son but I'm not going to get into another agument with you... I do hink it's time for you to take a long hard look in the mirror, Son and realize that the apple didn't fall far from the tree…'_

Without even knowing he was doing it he spun around and threw the cell as hard as he could against the farthest wall as anger and fear took over. Anger that his father felt the need to rub his face in the conversation once more and fear because he knew what his father said was true.

It took him a couple of seconds after the red haze left his vision to realize he'd narrowly missed hitting one of his colleagues in the head as they'd entered the rec room in search of coffee.

Special Agent Samantha Danvers stood stock-still, staring at him as if he were a crazy man. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving with barely tempered emotion so he supposed that wasn't too far off the mark.

"Sorry, cold callers _really_ tick me off, Sam," he forced a wide smile as he quipped to try and bring down the tension in the room but the look on her face told him, that the smile was probably pure Jack Nicholson in 'The Shining' and she wasn't convinced.

As he stepped forward to retrieve the pieces of his shattered cell from Danvers' feet, she quickly moved away from him.

He frowned at the move because she'd never had a problem with him invading her space before, then realization hit.

Oh shit, just great, she looked like she was actually scared of him.

He wanted to tell her that c'mon, what did she think he was going to do, hit her?

Hell, he'd never raised a hand to a woman before! But considering Danvers was seeing for the first time that the flirty, chatty, affable fool that was Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had one hell of a temper whatever he said would probably only make the situation more uncomfortable.

Red flamed up his neck and face as he grabbed his broken cell. He swallowed hard and quickly left the room with Danvers eyes still boring into his back.

Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic.

He was already getting the stink eye from security for getting two of theirs suspended, and now he'd just added terrifying random work colleagues into the mix of what was already shaping up to be a crap week.

Plus... Special Agent Danvers was one of the biggest gossips he'd ever met and Tony predicted that this latest little episode would be halfway around the yard before he even made it back into the bullpens, and probably with several embellishments when good old Chinese whispers came into play.

He kept his head down as he walked down the stairs, trying to calm his beating heart and sinking gut.

At his desk he fumbled to remove the sim card from amongst the broken fragments of his phone. Task completed he unceremoniously dumped the useless mess into the trash at his feet with a loud clatter. He wrenched open the stationery cupboard door with a loud crash and retrieved one of the boxed, pristine new cells from the shelf, slamming the door shut as a final nod to his temper.

Sitting back at his desk he tried to break open the packaging but his his fingers still felt weird, overly sensitive post frostbite and his blunt nails just weren't doing it as they skittered over the shiny surface of the cellophane without doing any damage.

Damn, he was sure companies did it on purpose.

Frustrated, he swore impatiently under his breath.

Using his teeth, he tore the cellophane from the packaging and set about opening the box.

"Had an accident with your phone, DiNozzo?" Gibbs' voice broke through his frustration.

Tony looked up from his ministrations for the first time since entering the pen.

Oh yeah, there were other people around at this time of the day and boy were they eyeballing him. Gibbs had an unreadable expression on his face; Ziva and McGee were both frowning.

He licked his lips and smiled as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Yup," he responded flippantly. "But I'm still about five down on your score on new phones this year, Boss."

"Is that so, DiNozzo?" Gibbs narrowed his eyes at him until Tony felt like he was up on a light box, an x-ray, naked and exposed.

"Found out the hard way that phones and flights of concrete stairs don't mix."

Tony grinned at everyone, nothing to see here, people, just a butterfingers accident.

Gibbs grunted and to anyone else it would have appeared that he'd returned his focus to the file he'd been reading but Tony knew different, it was a simply a ruse, a deflection that allowed the man to observe sneakily.

Tony pretended that he was oblivious, lowered his eyes and turned his attention back to the phone to check all his data had transferred before he plugged it in to charge. He tried to keep his body language loose and easy as he tapped at his keyboard. It must have worked as, slowly Ziva and McGee stopped sending him covert glances. He set about acting as normally as possible even though he was feeling anything but.

The words document he was working on blurred, and faded before his eyes. He shook his head to try and remove the images zigzagging through his brain of the rotting corpse of a little girl buried under the snow, images of innocent children being degraded.

Tony took a deep breath, and rubbed his forehead, tiredness seemed to have seeped into every bone and every muscle.

He opened his top drawer and pulled out a packet of caffeine tablets and tossed a couple into his mouth, in the hope they would kick-start his brain. As he swilled them down with a swig from a bottle of water on his desk, he saw that Gibbs was watching him again.

Nothing got past the man. Again, he ignored the frown.

Thirty minutes later Special Agent Danvers walked by, carrying a cup of coffee from what must have been the longest break known to man. Tony wondered just how many people she'd cornered in that time. He tilted his head; she flushed red as she passed, steadfastly ignoring his smile. Tony shrugged and surreptitiously tracked her progress across the floor with the corner of his eye all the way to her pen.

Instead of settling down behind her desk she headed straight over to the senior field agent on her team. She leaned over Special Agent Finn's shoulder, her lips moving quickly as she spoke and if Tony was unsure as to what she was talking about then the way both agents suddenly looked his way certainly dispelled any doubt.

The knot in his gut tightened when Finn nodded at her, stood and headed their way, stopping in front of Gibbs desk.

His boss lifted his head and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Can I help you, Martin?"

"Uh, can I have a word, Gibbs?"

"Yup." Gibbs leaned back in his chair and placed his hands nonchalantly behind his head.

"In private." Finn nodded towards the window.

Gibbs frowned but stood up and followed the other team lead.

Oh shit.

Tony looked back over toward Special Agent Danvers; she was concentrating on something on her desk with such a fixed, intense stare she would have put Uri Geller to shame.

Over at the window he could see Finn talking animatedly, he couldn't hear what was being said but he could read Gibbs' body language very well and it wasn't good. The subtle changes signaled anger but he couldn't tell who exactly it was aimed at, him or Finn; one thing for sure was he wasn't going to wait around to find out.

Tony stood, shut his PC down, snatched his new cell and grabbed his coat and bag in one fluid movement.

"Where are you going?" McGee asked.

"Home," He turned off his light whilst still looking over at the window.

"But it is only five…" Ziva scoffed.

"Got a headache. Tell Gibbs." He called as he all but ran towards the stairs.

"Wait! ...Tony…" McGee shouted after him.

Way to go, Probie. I'm trying to make my escape and you go and yell my name across the floor at the top of your lungs.

The door clattered after him as he trotted down the stairs to the parking level.

Reaching his car he pulled out his keys from his pocket. In his haste he fumbled and dropped them.

His heart was racing and he felt pumped up on adrenaline or maybe it was just the caffeine tablets. It kind of felt like he was ten again and he'd just stolen a Milky Way from the store for a dare. Today, like then with every step he kept expecting to feel a hand on his shoulder, except this time it was the hand of his boss and not a store detective.

He cast a quick glance towards the stairwell.

Tony fully expected to see Leroy Jethro Gibbs barreling towards him in full battle mode and call him a coward, but after yesterdays FUBAR he really couldn't face another 'talk' from his boss about where his 'head was at' right now.

He bent down and picked up his keys.

His heart was still pounding in anticipation of a confrontation but the fire door to the stairwell stayed shut. Christ this was exhilarating after weeks of sitting on his ass at home, and he still couldn't quite believe that he was actually going to do it, get away clean and clear.

Tony tried to jam the key in the door.

Jesus, when had it become so difficult to put a damn key in a frigging lock?

And why the hell did the air suddenly seem thin and stale in the garage?

His hands were shaking and his started to feel an odd tightness forming in his throat and chest.

He couldn't catch his breath and sucked more oxygen into his lungs as he scrabbled with the lock.

In, out, in, out, in, out.

The keys dropped onto the floor with a loud clatter again.

He stumbled forward and leaned heavily against his car door.

What the hell was happening?

Little black dots swayed in front of his eyes, pins and needles invaded his hands and legs and he could feel the slide start to happen as his coat slithered across the paintwork, his body gaining momentum downwards.

Strong hands suddenly grabbed his elbows and guided him towards the ground.

He could hear Gibbs barking into his phone at someone, telling them to get down to the garage stat.

The black dots were swarming like bees now and he let his head fall forward as the room swam.

"You've got to slow down your breathing, DiNozzo." His boss' voice sounded muffled and far away. He could hear the words floating by.

A hand quickly pinned him to the car door, whilst the other lifted his chin upwards.

"Slow and easy, c'mon, Tony, you've got to calm down."

Okay, fine but that was easier said than done even though it should have been the easiest thing in the world.

What the fuck was happening to him tight now because he was at a loss to figure it out.

**TBC**

**Cookies and chocolate to all who review. xx**


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry I've been MIA! Life has been hectic and a little crappy!**

**Huge thanks to all of you who've reviewed and PM'ed me. I love you all and really appreciate all the lovely messages.**

**Now onto the bad news. The lovely Scousemuz1k beta'd this so wonderfully but it somehow kept getting corrupted when she sent it to me. Basically it took out all punctuation and added italics and spaces in strange places. I've gone a quick go through to try and correct but I'm sure it's not perfect...so sorry, forgive any weird errors!**

**Love you all**

**Cheeks. xx**

* * *

Gibbs stood stock still as he absorbed what the fraud unit team lead was telling him. Special Agent Finn concisely recounted what Danvers had witnessed in the break room, with no frills or drama.

Gibbs wasn't entirely surprised. He let a breath out, it could have been worse but it still wasn't good.

DiNozzo had one a hell of a temper; just because people didn't often see it, didn't mean it didn't exist. Most people generally underestimated Tony, seeing only the affable guy and that was usually their downfall because underneath the cool façade ran a deep seam of fire.

What _was_ unusual was the level of anger shown today; that side of DiNozzo usually only reared its ugly head during a difficult case, where stress and lack of sleep caused a loss of control. Any other day Gibbs would have dismissed what Finn was saying, but after yesterdays little stunt, it was definitely a warning that could not be ignored.

"DiNozzo's been under a lot of pressure recently and I just figured you'd want to know, Special Agent Finn said anxiously. "You know I'm not bringing this up to cause shit in your team, right? The guy's on the edge, we can all see it and Samantha's just concerned, we all are. "

"Yeah, Martin, I get that, " Gibbs nodded. The man in front of him wasn't a shit-stirrer by nature; there was no ulterior motive here other than genuine worry.

Finn looked relieved and continued.

"I'm pretty sure that people have got the message not to yank Tony's chain about the Gray case but I can ask around and see if anyone is still being a dick about it. Maybe that triggered this. "

"I appreciate you reading me in and yeah, let me know if you find anyone who 's been ignoring my _advice_. "

Gibbs put an emphasis on the word letting Finn know just what would happen if he found out that was the case; Vance would have to scrape whoever off the wall by the time he'd finished with them.

He frowned and shifted his eyes past Martin s head. DiNozzo was swiftly making a break for it, heading for the stairs with his backpack and coat; a clear sign that he wasn't just going for coffee.

Gibbs knew he had to extract himself quickly if he wanted to catch up with his fleeing agent. He muttered another brisk thank you to his colleague then set off at a trot across the floor to the stairs, signaling on the way to a nervously hovering McGee and Ziva to stay put. Neither looked happy about it but they didn't follow.

He jogged down the stairs two at a time, his feet thundering in the empty stairwell, until he reached the parking garage.

Gibb quickly scanned the floor.

On the first pass he thought he d already missed his agent but he heard the unmistakable metallic clatter of keys hitting the ground towards the back of the garage and he quickly headed towards the noise.

As he rounded one of the large, round pillars, he saw DiNozzo standing by his car, fumbling with his keys like a drunk after a night on the tiles.

He frowned, but he was still in boss mode and was all set to shout across to Tony, asking where the hell he thought he was going. He never got the chance.

With a lurching heart, he saw his agent sway alarmingly and stumble heavily against the side of his car with aloud thump.

Gibbs was running full tilt without even realizing it, so when DiNozzo 's legs completely buckled he was there.

"Hey, hey, Tony, it's okay," he said as he quickly grabbed the younger man s elbows, stopping him from hitting the concrete below.

His heart was thumping hard in his chest as his thoughts went into overload. He was not sure what the hell was going on but _was_ very much aware that DiNozzo had recently had brain surgery.

Gibbs gently guided him down so Tony was leaning against the car door.

Grabbing his phone out of his pocket as he knelt, with one hand he pressed speed dial.

"Good afternoon," Autopsy Ducky s cheerful voice rang out down the line.

"Duck, I need you down in parking ASAP DiNozzo 's collapsed." He said, not even bothering to hide the rising panic he felt from his old friend.

"Is he conscious?" Ducky quickly asked and Gibbs could hear him already moving, calling for Palmer to bring his bag.

"Yeah, but he doesn't seem with it and his breathing's not good. Shit ..." He ended the call without waiting for a response because, as if mocking his statement, Tony's head suddenly dropped forward and he started slumping towards the floor.

Gibbs threw his phone down next to him and hastily pinned Tony up against the car by his chest withone hand, whilst the other held his chin upwards.

DiNozzo's eyes were unfocused leaving Gibbs with the impression that Tony wasn't even sure he was there.

What he could see was that Tony was breathing way, way to fast.

"Hey, you still with me? You v'e got to slow down your breathing, DiNozzo."

Nothing, there was no response at all. Instead all he got was the sound of loud, wheezing, as the rate of Tony's breathing seemed to increase with every breath.

"Slow and easy, c'mon, Tony, you've got to calm down."

Gibbs tried to keep his voice composed even though he felt anything but.

Was this an asthma attack?

Was that the reason that Tony was gasping like a fish out of water?

He kicked himself as he recalled what McGee had found in the medicine cabinet, searching DiNozzo 's apartment when he d been undercover. He'd been meaning to ream his friend out for keeping the need for the inhalers from the team but with everything that had been going on that conversation had been put on the back burner. He kicked himself about that now.

Images of Tommy-Lee Catmull collapsing in his father s store, empty inhaler still clasped in his hand. Gibbs remembered as clear as day watching his father frantically blow air into his friends lungs, remembered witnessing the look of horror on both his father and mother s faces when Tommy didn 't start breathing again.

He was usually clearheaded, wasn 't prone to panic often but Gibbs would hold his hand up and say that he was shit scared right now because, like back then, he didn't actually know what the fuck was going on.

All he could do was hold DiNozzo's head up and try and calm him down, not that it was doing any good.

He looked down at Tony and the panic increased tenfold at the ominous blue tinge that had started to creep along his lips.

Gibbs had never been so relieved to hear the thump of a fire door opening in his life. He turned his head and saw Ducky and Palmer rushing over.

They both knelt down with a clatter of bags.

"Let us take over now, Jethro." Ducky gently maneuvered him to the side and started to talk to Tony in an even, gentle tone.

Gibbs watched him take DiNozzo 's pulse. Ducky quickly opened Tony 's shirt and listened to his chest and heart whilst Palmer continued to prop him up.

Ducky pursed his lips.

"Mr. Palmer, I do believe you know what Anthony needs right now."

Gibbs noticed the look that Ducky and Palmer exchanged.

"The blue one?" Jimmy Palmer questioned.

"Yes, indeed, I think that will do the trick."

Palmer reached into Ducky s black bag and pulled out an inhaler.

"Come on, dear boy, a couple of puffs of this to start with just to help ease your breathing." Ducky uncapped the lid and placed it into Tony's shaking hand. He took it but Ducky had to guide it up towards his mouth. DiNozzo inhaled several times as if the powdery mist were a lifeline.

"That s it." Ducky gently took the inhaler from the unsteady hand and gave it to Palmer. He then placed his hands either side of Tony's head and looked into his eyes.

"Now, Anthony, I want you to look straight at me, ignore everything else and just take measured and controlled breaths in time with me. Can you do that?"

Gibbs watched as DiNozzo shut his eyes briefly before finally nodding.

It took several nerve-wracking and long minutes before DiNozzo's breathing returned to normal.

Sorry about that. He looked around the group, laughed but there was no humor in it and sat up straighter.

"Feeling a little better now?" Ducky asked.

"Yeah, thanks."

Palmer unscrewed a bottle of mineral water and handed to Tony.

"Thanks, Jimmy." He took a gulp and looked embarrassed as he dribbled most of it down his chin, he swiped his hand across his mouth.

"May I ask how have you been sleeping? " Ducky inquired.

"Not too great to be honest. " Tony flicked his eyes over to Gibbs then back to Ducky.

"Hmmm and have you been taking any stimulants recently?" Ducky asked.

"Drugs, you think he s been taking drugs?" Gibbs snapped his head up and spluttered.

"No!" DiNozzo started to look panicky and his breathing started to rasp again. "I ...shit, I swear I haven t been doing drugs."

"It's okay, Anthony. Calm yourself," Ducky glared at Gibbs. "That 's not what I was insinuating at all stimulants as in too many cups of coffee maybe or that pink goop Abigail drinks?"

DiNozzo flushed red but didn 't answer.

"Tony?" Gibbs stepped leaned forward. "The truth, it's okay."

"Um ...caffeine tablets to keep me awake ...been eating them like Tic-Tac 's I guess," Tony s head snapped up. "Shit, I'm sorry, is that what caused this, Ducky?"

"No need to apologize, Anthony, I very much doubt that is the sole cause but I would lay off the caffeine for the next few days just to be on the safe side. I suspect you need nothing more than several good nights sleep to sort you out and regain your health. I suggest Jimmy should take you home, as I don t believe driving would be prudent right now. Take this in case you feel tightness in your chest again," Ducky pressed the inhaler into Tony s hand. "Rest up, and I also suggest an early night."

Gibbs saw the look relief wash over DiNozzo' s face and wondered what caused it. Was it the fact that he was being let off without further questions or prodding or the fact that he was being released into Palmer's care? He filed the questions away for later perusal.

Jimmy Palmer stood and held out his hand, and helped Tony up.

Again Gibbs watched a look pass between the doctor and his assistant, Ducky shook his head, barely enough to notice but Jimmy did and nodded back, seemingly with an understanding of the situation that he wasn' t read in on.

Gibbs stood and watched as Palmer steered Tony towards his car.

He started to open his mouth but Ducky motioned for silence.

Gibbs waited a full two seconds after the car moved up the ramp and out of the garage.

"What the hell's wrong with him, Duck? Asthma? Shouldn 't he be going to the hospital to get checked out ?" All the questions and worry poured out in one long stream.

Ducky chuckled and patted his arm.

"Relax, Jethro; I would bet my hat that young Anthony experienced nothing more serious than a common or garden panic attack. The inhaler was merely a precaution to quickly relax the muscles surrounding the narrowed airways in his lungs, considering his previous pulmonary issues I thought it wise."

"What?" Gibbs spluttered. Okay, that wasn 't what he d been expecting to hear. A panic attack?

"It's not entirely surprising; Anthony has been under a lot of stress recently, Jethro and there is only so much a person can take. The caffeine tablets would have made him more susceptible to an attack, not only does it act as a strong stimulant but in large enough doses it also creates a wide range of unpleasant physical and mental conditions including nervousness, irritability, restlessness, insomnia, headaches, and heart palpitations."

Gibbs ran a hand through his hair.

"C'mon, Duck. I drink coffee like it's going out of fashion and Abby mainlines the stuff and we're not having panic attacks at the drop of a hat."

Ducky huffed out an exasperated breath.

"Both you and Abigail have built up quite a tolerance over the years but for someone who hasn't, well, you have just seen the results first hand. I should really recommend you cut down on your intake but I suspect I would once again be wasting my breath."

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Just as I thought." Ducky started to re-pack his medical bag.

"So is he going to be okay?"

"As I said, he should be fine if he steers clear of the tablets, and gets some decent rest."

Gibbs nodded, partly satisfied.

"But that s not all is it, Duck, I can see it in your face."

Ducky picked up his bag.

"I am rather worried I'll admit. The caffeine tablets only partly account for this little episode. I fear that the stresses and strains of the past few months are weighing heavily on our Anthony."

Gibbs sighed.

"He'll bounce back, Duck, he always does."

Ducky looked disappointed.

"Everyone has their limits, Jethro, as you well know. May I remind you of your sabbatical in Mexico? Maybe an extended holiday would be wise for our friend to get him back on track too."

Gibbs shook his head and followed as Ducky made his way towards the elevator.

"DiNozzo wouldn' t go for that. You know what he 's like, too much time away from the job and he goes stir crazy. He needs to get back into the job and keep his mind busy."

Gibbs pressed the button and watched the lights bounce across the display before he slid his eyes sideways.

"You going to tell me what all that silent messaging going back and forth between you and Palmer were about?"

The doors opened and they stepped inside.

"Ahhhh, nothing gets past you, Jethro. That little subterfuge was nessesary as I think the last thing Anthony needed to hear right now was the fact that he had just experienced a panic attack. He is under enough stress as it is without obsessing about it happening again, because we _both_ know that is exactly what would happen. No, I feel it best for him to think that this was just a reaction to the caffeine tablets."

Ducky hugged his medical bag against his chest.

"I know you think he needs to get back into the swing of things but maybe the lad needs a little more time. His injuries were quite debilitating without all the emotional fallout from his undercover operation."

"You cleared him for duty." Gibb's head snapped around and he looked at his friend.

"Maybe I was a little hasty."

"Duck, if you sign him off again it'll do more damage right now."

The doors opened and they stepped around several agents waiting to enter.

"Need I point out what damage could happen if he had a panic attack whilst out in the field? I would be remiss in my duties if I were to ignore the warning signs. I am willing to give him a little leeway to regain his equilibrium but I cannot turn a blind eye for long, my friend. "

Gibbs grabbed Ducky s elbow.

"My gut tells me that there's more to this than we know about. Give me a little time to get to the bottom of it. He s on desk duty until the end of the week anyway. After that then we ll see, okay? "

Ducky stared at him for several seconds before nodding.

"Very well, Jethro but he needs rest and lots of it. I also suggest that he needs a little levity right now and reminding that he has friends."

"That s the easy part, the team are there for him." Gibbs responded. "They'll ready and willingly to mother hen him if needed."

"Just the team? " Ducky said quietly, raising an eyebrow.

Gibbs quirked an enigmatic smile and turned on his heel.

"Hey, I _don__'t_ mother hen!" he called back over his shoulder as he made his way towards Abby's lab.

Keep telling yourself that, Jethro, keep telling yourself that. Ducky chuckled as he entered Autopsy, where the smile quickly slid from his face. Anthony was a worry right now. He was so busy trying to act like everything was fine and dandy that he hadn 't noticed the cracks were appearing for everyone to see.

Ducky put his bag down on the floor next to the desk in his office and turned his kettle on. He pulled an Earl Grey tea bag out of the caddy next to the sugar bowl and popped it in his bone china cup.

From watching close at hand he knew that life working in a Federal Agency was neither exciting nor glamorous, it was generally a long hard slow climb up a cliff face and sometimes a series of events made an agent slip and fall straight to the bottom.

Stirring his tea thoughtfully, he sighed. He knew that Anthony was definitely having a hard time getting back on his feet to start the climb again this time and that was indeed worrying.

* * *

Gibbs stepped off the elevator and stalked his way towards Tony s apartment. His mind was elsewhere, going at a thousand miles an hour, so when a voice suddenly boomed his name just behind him he had to admit to doing something that hadn 't happened for many a year, he jumped.

"Never thought I'd manage to sneak up on a sniper at my age."

Gibbs turned and saw DiNozzo 's neighbor Frank beaming at him.

"Can't say I go on high alert in an apartment block mostly filled with corporate bankers and retirees, Frank."

"Hey, I can still shoot a gun or cold cock a head with the best of em, Jethro. Just because I m old doesn' t mean I'm dead!" Frank said with mock outrage.

Gibbs looked beyond the light smile on the ex-cops face and into his eyes. Didn 't take a genius to see they were filled with worry.

"True, true ...so do I need to frisk you for any hidden knives or explosives, Frank or are you going to tell me what's bothering you."

"Straight to the point, huh."

Frank cleared his throat.

"You know what it's like in this place. People generally have got nothing to do but eat, sleep, gossip and wait for the grim reaper. Well, I was down in the laundry room this afternoon and I overheard the residents from 6a and 9b grousing about some angry shouting coming from Tony s apartment in the early hours of this morning. I didn' t hear anything myself but then since I retired I sleep like I 'm in a damn coma but the thing is that s not like DiNozzo; he 's always been pretty considerate about not disturbing people when he comes in late and apart from the odd screamer he used to bring home."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at that and Frank chuckled again.

"The thing is we don t really hear him. Just figured you' d want to know. Jethro, I 'm worried about him. I' ve seen too many good men burn out. It 's obvious the kid s not having a good time of it right now and if someone is making it worse for him...well, I figured that s something maybe you should look into it."

Frank finished and shrugged, embarrassed like a kid who 'd spoken out of turn.

"I'll definitely look into it, Frank."

The old man nodded, satisfied and retreated back into his apartment.

Gibbs huffed out a sigh. The phone throwing incident making more sense now, if someone was calling him and giving him grief. If he found out Gray's wife and her angry fellatio loving friend were still harassing DiNozzo despite his warnings then they would wish they hadn't been born.

* * *

"He 's asleep, Sir. " Jimmy closed the door behind them." I made him take a sleeping tablet after we d eaten, even though he didn't want too."

"Good call, Palmer." Gibbs nodded approvingly and had to stop a smirk as the young man flushed beet red at his praise, at least the autopsy gremlin seemed to have stopped looking like he was going to piss his pants whenever they met. "You can go straight home now, Duck said he d clear up autopsy tonight."

Jimmy shifted from foot to foot and made no move to go.

"Go! I'll keep an eye on DiNozzo. "

"Um, it 's not that ...um... I drove Tony 's car here, Special Agent Gibbs and I left my wallet at home . " Jimmy looked embarrassed.

"No problem, here s some money for the cab home and to get into work tomorrow," Gibbs dug out his wallet and handed Jimmy several notes, it was the least he could do.

"Thank you. You see I wasn' t expecting to need any money today, I mean I bought enough for my lunch and a soda and a chocolate bar... uh, you don' t need to know about that . but then Tony collapsed and I left my car at the yard I ll get a receipt and give you the change back first thing tomorrow," He gabbled.

Gibbs held up his hand and quirked an eyebrow at Jimmy 's nervous verbal diarrhea.

"I don t give a crap about the change. Just appreciate your help."

"No problem, Sir, Tony is a good friend. " Jimmy picked up his coat and wound a long scarf around his neck.

"That came as a surprise, he hadn' t been aware that the two men knew each other that well." Gibbs simply clapped him on the shoulder as Jimmy opened the door to leave.

"Is there anything I need to give him if he wakes up? " Gibbs asked.

"If he has trouble breathing there is an inhaler next to the bed, Dr. Mallard said that apart from that, good food and sleep he needs nothing more than to relax . "Jimmy frowned as he looked down the hall towards the bedroom as he stuffed the money in his pocket. "I don t think he s done much of that recently. Well, goodnight, Sir. "

Gibbs let the Sir go. Jimmy Palmer had shown that he was a valuable member of the team.

"Night, Palmer, and thanks again, Kid. "

Jimmy beamed again and trotted down the stairs.

Gibbs shut the door and walked towards the bedroom. He opened the door and peered in.

DiNozzo lay sprawled across his bed fully clothed, one arm flung across his eyes as if to block out the non-existent light in the room. Satisfied that he was still asleep he quietly shut the door behind him.

Padding to the kitchen he turned on the coffee pot. Pursing his lips he walked back into the den; he d already been on high alert but Frank s words just crystalized the need for swift action to try and get to the bottom of whatever was going on with his agent.

He began by flicking through the pile of envelopes on the sideboard, nope, nothing of interest there just the usual utility bills, restaurant menus and mailshots. He turned and headed towards Tony s office . It consisted of an antique mahogany, leather-topped desk that wouldn 't have looked out of place at 221b Baker Street. A green glass angle-poise lamp towered above an assortment of papers, buff files, pens, paperclips and elastic bands. A closed laptop sat in the center of the desk. Gibbs looked towards the bedroom again before turning his attention back to the desk.

Okay, he' d hold his hand up and admit that he was snooping but he was an investigator, that s what he did.

He flipped open the file. The first thing he saw was the FBI copy logo stamped at the top of the page

He started to flick through the pages, scanning each quickly before he slammed it shut with the palm of his hand.

Dammit, he muttered into the silent room.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee drew him back into the kitchen. He poured himself a cup and sipped the scalding liquid.

He should have known that DiNozzo wouldn't have let it lie even though it wasn't their case anymore. He should have known that the unidentified little girl found buried in the Greys' garden would have continued to haunt the man.

God knows who from the FBI had been supplying him with the case notes but it didn' t surprise him that Tony was resourceful enough to get them. The man could sell sand to the Sahara, so getting the case notes to an active FBI case would have been a piece of cake.

And it wasn't just idle curiosity over the case. Nope, the meticulous notes in DiNozzo's hand, written on post-it notes on the pages told their own tale. It looked like Tony was trawling through the databases himself, diggingto_ see _if he could break the case. That probably accounted for the tiredness, and using caffeine tablets as a crutch to get him through the days. Gibbs knew that DiNozzo could get every bit as obsessed _as_ he could and had probably spent many hours when he should have been recuperating after leaving hospital working stealthily at home on the case.

But his gut told him that the lack of progress in finding the identity of the dead girl wasn't the whole story. There was still the late night phone call to add to the equation.

Taking his coffee through to the den he took a large gulp and set his cup down before he went about searching again.

He eventually found what he was looking for in DiNozzo 's coat that had been slung haphazardly over the back of the couch.

It may have been a new phone but the data would still be intact. He managed to get up the recent call log and worked his way through the list. Abby, McGee appeared several times, his number also but then his eyes locked onto one particular name that appeared twice. His hand curled against the cell when he saw it and suddenly Tony throwing his phone against the wall made sense.

Even though from all reports, Tony s father was trying to bridge the gap in their somewhat distant relationship, from what he d seen DiNozzo senior wasn t exactly brimming with tact or nurturing instincts when it came to his son.

He was itching to press dial and have a little chat with the man but that was probably be a bad idea; the way they rubbed each other up the wrong way any conversation would quickly deteriorate into a slanging match and that wouldn't help DiNozzo in the long run.

Gibbs lowered the phone as he thoughtfully chewed on the inside of his cheek as he pondered on how to proceed.

* * *

Tony sat bolt upright. Not sure what the hell was going on.

He didn 't even remember going to bed. Didn 't know what time it was, it could have been early night or early morning.

He ran a hand over his face, feeling the sweat beading his face and neck against his palm.

The dream that woke him was already receding but enough remained to leave him with a queasy, unsettled feeling.

The same dream he d had over and over.

It was snowing, like it had been that night. The dead girl stood in front of him, clutching the dirty rag doll as Grey and the senator molested her. She stared at him, her mouth open in a silent scream of blame.

Sometimes it was Imee who clutching that damn rag doll.

Sometimes, inexplicably, it was Abby.

Sometimes it was Kate.

But the one constant was it was always snowing and he couldn 't move, so he could only ever watch as the two men pushed and pulled whomever. In his dream he was yelling at them, begging them to stop but he had no voice, was invisible.

Swallowing, he tasted bile at the back of his throat.

Water. He needed water.

He was shaking as he got up. His legs felt like rubber.

On the way to the kitchen he noticed the den light on and went to switch it of.

He wasn't expecting to see Gibbs standing in the center of the room with his cell phone in his hand. He looked over at his desk and saw his files in disarray.

Using one hand to steady himself against the doorframe he watched his boss scroll down the screen leaving him in no mind what the man was doing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Anger chased away the last remnants of his nightmare.

"You only had to ask or does my privacy mean so little to you?"

**TBC**

**Thank you for being patient. Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long to write! All reviews welcome! :)**

***mwah***


	19. Authors Note!

Hi All,

Just a quick note to say 'fear not' this story is not been abandoned and dumped on the big ol' rubbish heap of unfinished Fan Fic stories in the sky but due to 'real life' being busier than a bee in a tulip field I don't have a great deal of time to write these days.

I do have 2,000 words of the next chapter on my laptop and have ten days off so I am darn well going to finish it!

Thanks for all the kind messages and compliments about this story and all support you all give.

Love you.

Cheeks

xx


	20. Chapter 20

**Hello, no you are not hallucinating! A new chapter! Seriously, thank you for all being so patient with me. Sorry it's taken so long to get back to this little tale. Life has been a bit mental to be honest. Family illness issues, my illness issues, starting a handmade jewellery business, an event management business and working full time doesn't give me must wiggle room for writing but I will not abandon this fic! This hasn't been beta'd so all mistakes are mine but if I don't post this now theeeeen...you get the idea. Love you all. Miss you all loads and I hope you enjoy.**

**Love Cheeks. xx**

* * *

**Chapter 19**

"_You only had to ask or does my privacy mean so little to you!"_

Gibbs raised his head so sharply from the cell at the sound of DiNozzo's voice he almost got whiplash.

Tony clung onto the doorframe in way that signaled he was still very much under the influence of a heavy, chemically induced sleep. The second thing he saw was the pure, unadulterated anger on DiNozzo's face and his stomach plummeted.

Shit.

This was probably not what Ducky meant when he said keep things light, easy and stress free around DiNozzo right now.

Gibbs lowered the cell and rubbed his forehead.

He knew that was well and truly caught out. There was no point in trying to cover up what he'd been doing so he didn't even try to but Tony looked like he was about to face plant the floor. He was clearly pissed and had every right to be so but this clearly wasn't the best time or place to have a frank discussion about what the hell Senior had done now or to get into the finer points of crossing the line in friendship.

"Look, I know you want to chew me out, DiNozzo, but now is not the time. You can barely stand, so get back into bed before you fall flat on your ass." He sighed.

"If I remember correctly this is _my_ house, you _don't_ get to issue the fucking orders!" DiNozzo's jaw flexed stubbornly. He stared for several seconds before shaking his head as if to clear the sleep away but only ended up swaying more alarmingly.

"DiNozzo…" Gibbs sighed.

"No! Just where do you get off going through my phone records and my papers? What, it's one rule for me and another for you huh?"

Okay, he deserved that. Gibbs flushed as he remembered threatening his agent for doing the very thing he'd just done but an angry DiNozzo, drugged up to the eyeballs on Nitrazepam or what ever the hell Palmer had given him did not bode well for a good heart to heart.

"It wasn't an order, it was a request." Gibbs said softly. "Go back to bed, DiNozzo, please? We'll talk in the morning, I promise but right now you are in no shape for this."

He didn't exactly bandy the word around often, so when he did say it, it meant something, DiNozzo knew that.

The anger stayed on Tony's face; he was obviously not prepared to give him an inch…. 'please' or no 'please'.

DiNozzo simply ignored the request. He stumbled over and violently snatched the cell from his hand.

"Look, DiNozzo, I…" Gibbs started to reason with the man as he lifted his hands in surrender but he didn't get beyond the first few words because Tony suddenly paused, stock still in front of him and swallowed convulsively several times.

Aw Hell, he definitely identified the warning signs.

Gibb moved quickly but not as quickly as DiNozzo's gag reflex did.

He sighed as his second bent double and threw up on the floor.

Wincing, he set about holding Tony up until he'd finished emptying his gut of what seemed to be mainly bile.

Tony looked up, red in the face, Gibbs wasn't sure if it was from the exertion of throwing up or embarrassment. He didn't stop to figure it out; instead he quickly deposited DiNozzo on the couch and pointedly placed the metal trashcan in front of him.

Tony sat with his head back and his eyes shut, his Adam's apple bobbing as the man clearly tried to calm his gut into submission.

Gibbs simply shook his head and left him, opening the window on the way through to the kitchen, even though there was an icy chill in the air because the smell of vomit couldn't be helping Tony right now.

Looking down he grumbled to himself as he took in the state of his shoes. With another sigh, he toed his sneakers off and rinsed them under the tap to remove the splatter before leaving them on the radiator to dry.

He opened the cupboards under the sink and quickly found a half full bottle of lemon disinfectant and an empty bucket; he set about filling the bucket with hot soapy water and grabbed a roll of kitchen paper as he walked back through to the lounge.

Tony was bent forward heaving into the can.

Dumping his cleaning products down he returned to the kitchen, filling a glass with tepid water.

Tony had returned to his previous position, head back against the couch, eyes shut but this time he was hugging the can to his chest.

"You finished?"

Tony cracked open and eye seemed to ponder the question for several seconds before he slowly nodded.

Gibbs grabbed the can.

"I'll go rinse this out and bring it straight back,"

"Sorry, Boss," All anger was gone now, DiNozzo just looked bone wearily tired, contrite and more than a little green.

He held out the glass to Tony.

"No problem, not my first vomit rodeo, DiNozzo. Here, sip slowly or you'll just bring it up again," he said gruffly.

As he was emptying the contents down the toilet and rinsed the pail he was hit with a strong sense of Déjà vu, it may have been a different time and place, and the person had been a little girl wearing green Kermit pajamas but the strong feelings felt very much the same.

He smiled wryly to himself as he grabbed a blanket and returned to DiNozzo who really was no more than a big kid in an adult skin most of the time. He tossed the blanket to Tony and gave a pointed stare until the man wrapped it around his shoulders and shut his eyes again.

"Here," He placed the bucket down with a clank in front of the couch and moved over to set about cleaning the floor.

He'd just started to mop up the paper towels when Tony cracked his eyes open again. He tried to untangle himself from the blanket and Gibb's knew he was getting ready to shot up from the couch.

"Crap, no! Look, I'll do that, Boss…."

"Sit! I got this,"

DiNozzo ignored his words and pushed the blanket away, making to stand.

"You shouldn't have to clean up my puke, Boss," he muttered weakly.

"I said I've got this, and if you get up from that couch again I'll kick your ass all the way into next week!" Gibbs barked, using his 'no argument' voice.

It obviously worked because Tony flushed red and pulled the blanket around his body again.

Gibbs was aware that Tony was watching him

"What made you do it?"

Gibbs stopped mopping and looked up. Okay, he hadn't been expecting that from DiNozzo right now but it was as good a time as any.

"I'm an investigator, Tony, you trash your cell this morning in the rec room, Frank down the hall tells me that you were shouting at someone in the middle of the night, doesn't take a genius to figure out someone pissed you off big time, was just trying to find out who."

"You could have just asked me," Tony said softly, all anger definitely gone. He just sounded tired and not just in a needing sleep way, which was worrying.

"You sayin' you have told me?" Gibbs rinsed the cloth in the bucket.

Tony sighed.

"Probably not," he conceded as he wrapped the blanket tighter around his torso, pulling it up under his chin and looking misreable.

"So, what did Senior do this time?" Gibbs stared at his agent.

DiNozzo stayed silent for enough time for Gibbs to think he'd hit a brick wall again but then Tony surprised him by actually answering.

"Just gave me a few home truths," An arm snaked out from under the blanket as Tony leaned forward and picked up his glass of water.

"Like what?' Gibbs narrowed his eyes. He had a strong feeling he would be ripping Senior a new asshole before this day was out.

"Oh… this and that."

"Specifics would be nice," Gibbs probed.

Tony paused again as if he were formulating his thoughts.

"How the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. How I'm just as much a selfish, self-centered bastard as he is and if I breed then I'd just be perpetuating the DiNozzo cycle of being a useless husband and father and other such warm and fuzzy statements," Tony took a sip of water and placed the glass back down. "But yeah, that was the general gist of our conversation."

Gibbs ground his teeth and continued to wipe the floor. He had much to say but he kept silent, he had a feeling that Tony hadn't quite finished even though he was now silent and staring at the wall opposite. He was proved right when Tony started speaking again.

"I know I have commitment issues but I always thought that one day I'd have the whole nine yards…a wife I loved, a little house somewhere with a white picket fence and two point four children, it was something to cling onto, you know, something to aim for but Dad made me realize that it was all a crock of shit. Who the fuck am I kidding huh? Because we all know that isn't going to happen. Women tend to run a mile once they get to know me. I know I have a reputation for loving and leaving but generally they get bored with me first. I just strike first as it hurts less. It all goes tits up when they realize that it's no fun dating a guy who often works eighteen hours days and hardly any weekends off. And lets face it kids don't even like me! So I've been thinking that it's probably best if I just book a vasectomy and resign myself to the fact that I'm going to end up just like dear old dad. Lonely, growing old disgracefully and dating increasingly younger women who are only after me for what they can get."

DiNozzo spoke softly but that only served to enhance the sting of his words.

Gibbs shook his head as he set about collecting the cleaning stuff.

"Ya know, I really didn't take you for a fool, DiNozzo,"

"Huh," Tony lifted his head and looked confused.

"After all this time I would have hoped you'd have figured out your father talks out of his ass ninety percent of the time."

"Yeah, and what about the other ten percent, Boss?" Tony's jaw clenched, not prepared to listen to sense quite yet. "You've gotta admit he has a point."

"The only point your dad has is the fact you work long hours and that's never easy on a relationship but if you're with the right person it'll work, simple as that. Look at Vance; he runs one of the alphabet agencies yet from what I see he has a pretty cozy home life and a wife and kids that adore him."

DiNozzo snorted bitterly. "Yeah, well, I think the Vance's are an aberration stuck in the fucking 60's, ruffling their kids hair, meatloaf and mash potatoes and tales of schooldays around the table when the real reality is misery and divorce. Or if you're lucky and have managed to avoid becoming a statistic then it's mother drinking her way down a bottle of Gordon's gin every night, whilst the father is out on business, when in reality he's fucking his latest mistress in the hotel down the road and the kid ends up in the bedroom forgotten and bored shitless in all the drama."

A light bulb suddenly went off in Gibbs' brain. He'd bet a hundred bucks that an evening spent with Leon, observing how a close-knit family really functions had bought every one of DiNozzo's insecurities about his own childhood to the surface and had led to a late night telephone call to his father but instead of reassurance and validation all he'd got was Senior's unique brand of parenting.

DiNozzo senior _was_ right in some respects.

The two men were very much alike but only in _some_ respects. They wereboth charming and both tended to get defensive and used deflection when on the ropes but whereas the son used humor, evasiveness and often self-depreciation, the elder turned towards vitriol and malice when cornered.

"That's crap, DiNozzo, for every cop that is divorced there is two more who are happily married. And let me tell you, you are nothing like your father. Hell, more than two minutes in Senior's company and I still feel my hackles rising. No-one else I'd rather drink a few jars of bourbon with and trust me that wouldn't be the case if you'd inherited more than your fathers suave looks."

Gibbs hoped that DiNozzo would leap at the opportunity he'd just given but the man just shook his head sadly, totally ignoring the blatant compliment.

He sighed and sat down opposite.

"Look, Tony, I'm sorry for invading your privacy, was just worried ya know, you've been through a lot recently."

Tony leaned back and waved his hand wearily as if to say it really didn't matter anymore.

They watched each other for a while. He wasn't sure how to proceed. Taking a breath he just went for it.

"You've gotta let it go you know." Gibbs said softly.

"What?"

"The girl found buried at Grey's. They may never find out who she was. The man travelled extensively, and the senator had his own private jet and made trips all around the globe. They could have snatched her from anywhere, may have kept her at that house for months before you were given the assignment or she could have been passed around God knows how many people before Grey and Co got their filthy hands on her."

Gibbs realized his error as soon as he opened his mouth. Damn it, he'd spent too many years on the job, seen too much to be surprised by anything, understood that not everything got wrapped up in a nice tidy bow and instead of easing Tony's guilt he quickly recognized he'd royally fucked up with his clinical explanation of the cold hard facts of the case.

DiNozzo screwed his eyes shut for several seconds, his jaw clenching tightly before he opening them again. Gibbs caught a fleeting glimpse of naked anguish before the expression became flat and closed again.

Gibbs opened his mouth to do a little damage limitation but he didn't get the chance. DiNozzo tossed the blanket to the side and stood.

"Look, I'm kinda tired, Boss, going to hit the sack. You can see yourself out." The tone of voice Tony used said the statements were final and this discussion was over.

Gibbs sighed and nodded, he watched DiNozzo schlep towards his bedroom. He paused as he opened the door.

"You're wrong, you know, I will find out who that girl is if it's the last thing I do. I couldn't protect her, she died on my watch no matter what you say and I owe her at least that." Tony said quietly. He turned and locked eyes with Gibbs before he shut the door firmly.

Gibbs shook his head sadly and set about picking up the bucket and cleaning products. He should have known that Tony wouldn't have listened to his pep talk on not blaming himself mainly because it was something he, himself would be beating himself up over had the roles been reversed and the girl had died on his watch.

* * *

Tony heard the door shut quietly and he let out the breath he'd been holding and got up off the bed.

He walked over to the door that separated his room from the second bedroom. A room that he'd swiftly changed into a walk in closet/slash junk room when he'd bought the place.

He sat down at the ornate Queen Anne dressing table that dominated the room. It had belonged to his mother and looked a little incongruous in the very masculine room but it had been a family piece and not only did it give him a link to his mother it was worth a small fortune not that he'd ever sell it.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared at the information scrolling down the computer screen as it ran searches for missing girls from Interpol and all the major police forces in the country.

Frank from Cyber Crimes had been very accommodating in setting up the programs and increasing the capacity on his PC to beef it up and all it had taken was setting him up on a blind date with a frisky cheerleader of his acquaintance. The date had gone well and Ol' Frank was pulling out all the stops, tweaking programs and above all, keeping his mouth shut.

Tony leaned back on the chair and spread the files he'd purloined out in front of him, and opened the FBI one to go through it again as the screen scrolled all databases for missing children.

Gibbs didn't have the monopoly on Captain Ahab.

* * *

"How is he?" The toothpick moved up and down.

"He's good," Gibbs stared at the Director confident that the blatant lie would go undetected.

Gibbs didn't feel the need to elaborate that DiNozzo had taken to trolling the files and databases of all the agencies and was probably getting by on three hours sleep a night because of it.

"And his little meltdown down in parking last week?"

Gibbs narrowed his eyes.

Vance chuckled. "What, you think I wouldn't find out about that?"

"I kinda hoped you wouldn't," Gibbs sat down heavily. "That the reason you called me up here?"

The toothpick waggled before Vance removed it and rolled it between his fingers.

"Why would you think that? Dr. Mallard said it was simply a unfortunate reaction to some meds. I'm sure you'll tell me if anything changes that prognosis." Vance stared at Gibbs, letting him know that he knew something was going on but was willing to let it slide for now.

Gibbs stared at his supervisor and gently inclined his head to show he understood loud and clear. "So, what's up?"

Vance leaned back in his chair. "I think now is the right time to give Tony his commendation. I've sent an invitation to Imee and her mother for next Friday and they've accepted."

Gibb blew out a puff off air and opened his mouth to disagree that now was most definitely not the right time but he didn't get the chance.

"I know, I know…Look, I've held off as long as possible but the NCIS press office and Sec Nav are chomping at the bit to get this done and I didn't have much say in the matter. I certainly couldn't cite the fact that I didn't think DiNozzo was ready for the Brouhaha right now. If he's been cleared for the field, as they are concerned, he's ready. "

"You know damn well the two things are entirely different…" Gibbs stood and started to pace.

Vance held his hand up.

"There is nothing I can do. The wider press is going to be there, the public is still appalled the Senator took them in and they want a happy ending and photos and sound bites in the press of DiNozzo and the girl he saves does that. Sec Nav is trying to distract everyone from the fact that one if his agents had been one of a pedophile ring and screwed up a major FBI investigation by taking the majority of Tony's achievements."

Typical of the man, Gibbs knew he wasn't going to stop the event but he knew damn well what he felt like doing again right now.

"And before you go on the warpath may I remind you that you narrowly held onto your job the first time you punched Sec Nav, if you were to do it again then I can assure you that nothing I could do will save you." Vance gave a sly smile and chomped back down on the toothpick.

Damn, was he getting so easy to read? Gibbs huffed out another breath and tried to calm down. He needed coffee, desperately. He stalked over to the door.

"You think he'll be okay with the ceremony raking up the case again?" Vance asked.

Gibb turned as he violently wrenched open the door.

"He'll have to be, won't he…"

**TBC**

***mwah*...Take care all. xx**


End file.
